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DJ Drama and Lil Wayne - Put On For The Game Lyrics



DJ Drama and Lil Wayne - Put On For The Game Lyrics




(feat. Tyga, Gudda Gudda)

[Verse 1: Tyga]
I am livin the game, Hittin the fades, quick cash
Blink to fast you'll be gone, no quicksand
Dis man ain't givin a f*ck for no middle man, middle class
Skipped class only class I knew, was S-Benz
Now pretend you never heard of me from a can of candy yams
N I was just a boy like killa cam
But now my print over yo bitch, T-shirt
Glass skirt, research his work, iphone blackberry chirp
But it gets worse, how would you feel
Fresh of work, seein dis light-skinned jerk
After I'm all workin ya girlfriend purse
Damn ma, didn't he f*ck friend ha?
Yea y? I thought dat goofy bitch was lyin
Guess not, Bet not they won't near us
Fear us, Y.M squadron
Young bloods,
Nothin above eyebrows, G.E.D forever above
Studio, many yums, I ain't f*ckin with the club
While you gettin bub, I'm gettin pub
Dese songs I mean, Dese songs be mean
Got yo label warring, Cause I'm makin quality quantities
I got da holy spirit, but no father son

[Verse 2: Gudda Gudda]
Now everybody know I'm shinin in da coupe, No roof while I'm shittin on em
Rollin through da eastside, Hollandwood is hittin for
I'm all about my hustle, Need my chips so I could stack it up
Gone on da pill got me rollin like a acura
Young money nigga, Yea I'm back like I left somethin
You niggas is jaw jackin, watch me sidestep son
Young nigga, Got my money runnin like Barry
Bitches want my baby cause dey heard about my salary
Make dem dog hoes lay it down like ballin g
Knock dem bitches socks loose, pass em off to Mallie G
All brown maybach, You could say I'm yoohoo'n
All my niggas red flaggin You could see we soo woo'n

[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
Dedication 33333333
I feel like dese mothaf*ckas betta know we next
I will like but never love dem H-O-E-S
I fill a white tall cup full of codeine rich
I still eat a couple rappers for my protein bitch
I'm on my so mean shit, You don't know me bitch
I do it for those who done it before me bitch
My goons is gone ride even with a slow leak bitch
And then we get dem chickens, You get no piece bitch
Stunna man said kill em all, so still n all
I'm a kill em all, Murder dem pussy hoes
I'm flyer den a butterfly doin the tootsie roll
Haha, I got chips like the cookie dough
And it takes a lot of paper to book a show
You wouldn't know cause you couldn't know
I'm who they're lookin to n who they're lookin for
N numbers don't liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee
N numbers don't liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee
Yea betta hope yo math is rite
We take yo body for a sacrifice
You see that flashin light, Welcome to afterlife
I put on for dem bitches, On On for dem bitches
I put on for dem bitches, On ONNNNNNNNNNn
Put on for dem bitches, On onnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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(feat. Tyga, Gudda Gudda)

[Verse 1: Tyga]
I am livin the game, Hittin the fades, quick cash
Blink to fast you'll be gone, no quicksand
Dis man ain't givin a f*ck for no middle man, middle class
Skipped class only class I knew, was S-Benz
Now pretend you never heard of me from a can of candy yams
N I was just a boy like killa cam
But now my print over yo bitch, T-shirt
Glass skirt, research his work, iphone blackberry chirp
But it gets worse, how would you feel
Fresh of work, seein dis light-skinned jerk
After I'm all workin ya girlfriend purse
Damn ma, didn't he f*ck friend ha?
Yea y? I thought dat goofy bitch was lyin
Guess not, Bet not they won't near us
Fear us, Y.M squadron
Young bloods,
Nothin above eyebrows, G.E.D forever above
Studio, many yums, I ain't f*ckin with the club
While you gettin bub, I'm gettin pub
Dese songs I mean, Dese songs be mean
Got yo label warring, Cause I'm makin quality quantities
I got da holy spirit, but no father son

[Verse 2: Gudda Gudda]
Now everybody know I'm shinin in da coupe, No roof while I'm shittin on em
Rollin through da eastside, Hollandwood is hittin for
I'm all about my hustle, Need my chips so I could stack it up
Gone on da pill got me rollin like a acura
Young money nigga, Yea I'm back like I left somethin
You niggas is jaw jackin, watch me sidestep son
Young nigga, Got my money runnin like Barry
Bitches want my baby cause dey heard about my salary
Make dem dog hoes lay it down like ballin g
Knock dem bitches socks loose, pass em off to Mallie G
All brown maybach, You could say I'm yoohoo'n
All my niggas red flaggin You could see we soo woo'n

[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
Dedication 33333333
I feel like dese mothaf*ckas betta know we next
I will like but never love dem H-O-E-S
I fill a white tall cup full of codeine rich
I still eat a couple rappers for my protein bitch
I'm on my so mean shit, You don't know me bitch
I do it for those who done it before me bitch
My goons is gone ride even with a slow leak bitch
And then we get dem chickens, You get no piece bitch
Stunna man said kill em all, so still n all
I'm a kill em all, Murder dem pussy hoes
I'm flyer den a butterfly doin the tootsie roll
Haha, I got chips like the cookie dough
And it takes a lot of paper to book a show
You wouldn't know cause you couldn't know
I'm who they're lookin to n who they're lookin for
N numbers don't liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee
N numbers don't liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee
Yea betta hope yo math is rite
We take yo body for a sacrifice
You see that flashin light, Welcome to afterlife
I put on for dem bitches, On On for dem bitches
I put on for dem bitches, On ONNNNNNNNNNn
Put on for dem bitches, On onnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jay Jenkins, Kanye West, Christopher Gholson
Copyright: Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




DJ Drama and Lil Wayne - Put On For The Game Video
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