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Tekstovi: Game. The R.E.D. Album. Red Nation.

Throw your motherfucking Cincinnati hats in the sky
Nigga, don't ask why
Red laces in and out of them Air Max '95's

I, walk on the moon, flow hotter than June
Any nigga want drama I kick up a sand dune
Peace to my man Tune for giving his man room
Now we hitting switches to the Spring Break, Cancun

Get it? Naw, forget it, Suwo, I live it
Made the letter B more famous than a Red Sox fitted
But that was suicide, I don't live in Judah's eyes
Half of these rappers wasn't trapping when I was chopping the do or die

Suge had me in, I went Puffy like Zab Judah eye
Dre called, told my baby mama, "Won't you decide?"
She chose Doc, first day I poured you aside
Like it's Aftermath for life and all I do is ride

Before I turn on him I kill Satan
And stick my red flag in the ground
It's red nation

Now Blood the fuck up
Everyday's a gamble motherfucker tough luck
And we going to fuck the world 'til that bitch bust nuts
I can't tell you what's good but I can tell you what's what

And that's B's up, ho's down
Looking in the mirror, I'm nowhere to be found
Blood, I'm a dog, call me a bloodhound
Throwing Blood in the air, leave blood on the ground

Niggas'll trade they soul to be Drake or J. Cole
Live and die for this shit, word to Tupac Shakur's halo
One Blood, plural, nigga I'm spending Euros
Ferrari got a ice cream paint job, Dorrough

I'm up out the hood, where they pull them guns on you like
Come up out your hood, it ain't never all good
We roll up in backwoods, nigga get to acting stupid
Get thrown in the back woods

Los Angeles, home of the scandalous
Pimp, ho's and gamblers
98 degrees on Christmas
Nigga, we rolling cannabis

Swisher sweet, ain't it?
I told her I'm Charles Louboutin
The bitch fainted, pulled her panties down, stained it
That's my Chi-lingo, yeah I'm bi-lingual

Ball by myself, nigga ocho, cinco
Dancing With the Stars, bullets and fast cars
And everybody bleed out here, word to God

Now Blood the fuck up
Everyday's a gamble motherfucker tough luck
And we going to fuck the world 'til that bitch bust nuts
I can't tell you what's good but I can tell you what's what

And that's B's up, ho's down
Looking in the mirror, I'm nowhere to be found
Blood, I'm a dog, call me a blood hound
Throwing Blood in the air, leave blood on the ground

Russia got a red flag, U.S. got red stripes
Last Train to Paris, around the world in these red Nikes
Che Guevara of the New Era, test me
Louisville Slugger, you'll get buried in my New Era

Got that Natti on, tighter than a Magnum
Walk in the club sagging with a .38 magnum
Red Ralph Laurens, the double R sitting on a hill like Lauren
Her and the car foreign

Got my red Dre Beats on, trying to put my peeps on
And I keep it hood like this Phantom is a Nissan
Where my nigga Jim Jones at? Roll up the weed, son
So many Bloods in Compton had to get a NYC song

And while I'm out here, I might as well go shopping
And put this new bad bitch, I got her some Red Bottoms
And all these hating ass niggas want me dead
Because I'm Malcolm X before he turned Muslim, R.E.D.

Now Blood the fuck up
Everyday's a gamble motherfucker tough luck
And we going to fuck the world 'til that bitch bust nuts
I can't tell you what's good but I can tell you what's what

And that's B's up, ho's down
Looking in the mirror, I'm nowhere to be found
Blood, I'm a dog, call me a bloodhound
Throwing Blood in the air, leave blood on the ground