Bigger Than Me - The Game

These ni**as ain't bigger than me These ni**as ain't Nas, ain't Jigga to me These ni**as ain't Em, they ain't 50 to me You ain't Pun,

you ain't Pac, you ain't Biggie to me These ni**as ain't Crips, they ain't 60's to me These ni**as ain't Bloods, they ain't dripping with me ni**

as talking that shit 'bout the new generation, man

f**k these ni**as, I’ll slash your f**king faces

You ni**as ain’t sold shit, not an album or a rock

p*ssy ni**a putting rings on my old bitch

Dick down the throat ass ni**as, old ho' ass ni**as

Happy cause you went gold ass ni**as

These ni**as ain’t spitting with me, you ain’t sicker than me

f**k out my section you ain’t sitting with me This for very important people, it’s clear that we not equal

Clear you ni**as faggots, I’m the black Marshall Mathers

Like «ying, ying, ying» on a motherf**ker

Who needs Hulk Hogan when you got Sting on this motherf**ker?

Less than five albums, Kiss the Ring on this motherf**ker

California throne and I’m the King on this motherf**ker

I don’t wanna hear it — weak ass lyrics

Crying on the hook, thinking we gon' feel it Old lost ass ni**as, voice crack when you talk ass ni**as

Rolling blunts for the boss ass ni**as

I came in with 'Ye, Jeezy and boss ass ni**as

Your Freshman cover a whole bunch of soft ass ni**as

Tampon lyricists, evacuate the premises

Mute BET Cyphers, cause I don’t wanna hear that shit

May you Rest in Piss, you f**k ni**as, eh Frank Ocean go ahead and f**k these ni**as

(Yeah, they f**k ni**as) Ain’t no 3 stacks in your class

Take your Top 10 spot and shove it up your ass, bitch boy

ni**as already f**ked your bitch, you bitch boy

And every time you kiss your bitch you suck my dick, you bitch boy

And when you buy that ho a bag that bitch carry my bricks, you bitch boy

I was in the XXL, Red Chucks 'round my neck

I was the G in the Unit, had Buck round my set

Word to the rhymes had Busta bust round my set

Gave Whoo Kid a Glock in case they bust round my set

I’m from Compton where that Glock can’t f**k with that Tec

That’s some Bompton, 40 Glocc got socked in his neck

This a spawn in the flesh, you a pawn hit reset

Five in the chest, I’m Makaveli the Don in the vest

Don’t say «What's up» when you see me, you a p*ssy ni**a

Stranget, fake ass Kanye, fake ass Weezy

Fake ass jewelry, how I know?

I’m at the pawn shop

ni**a better rob Jack and Flav for his alarm clock

Speaking of time, how much more 'til the Game drop

So you can suck my dick and Complex can count my name drops

I been the underdog, I’m cool in the dog house

f**k all these p*ssys, give me any name to call out

Left Aftermath, Dre told me ball out

Stunna put me on a private jet then we balled out

Landed in Miami, met some bitches ate 'em all out

Black Marshall Mathers, time to show 'em what it’s all 'bout

«Ying, ying, ying» on a motherf**ker

«Ying, ying, ying» on a motherf**ker

These ni**as ain't bigger than me These ni**as ain't Nas, ain't Jigga to me These ni**as ain't Em, they ain't 50 to me You ain't Pun,

you ain't Pac, you ain't Biggie to me These ni**as ain't Crips, they ain't 60's to me These ni**as ain't Bloods, they ain't dripping with me ni**

as talking that shit 'bout the new generation, man

f**k these ni**as, I’ll slash your f**king faces

Frank Ocean go ahead and f**k these f**k ni**as

«Ying, ying, ying» on a motherf**ker

«Ying, ying, ying» on a motherf**ker

«Ying, ying, ying» on a motherf**ker

«Ying, ying, ying» on a motherf**ker

Drop your single, I drop dreams on that motherf**ker

I should let my daughter scream on this motherf**ker

The industry soft, I should let Miguel sing on this motherf**ker

Ride out

Blood money, we gon' ride out

Ride out

And don’t think I won’t send six ni**as to your hide out

Rich Gang