THE GAME - 92 Bars (Meek Mill Diss) lyrics

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    THE GAME - 92 Bars (Meek Mill Diss) lyrics



    VERSE 1
     This that sick rap, kick back, come to where I pitch at
     Where bitches love The Game like Tyson Beckford six pack
     Presidential Rollie, nigga, where your wrist at?
     I can kill you in four bars, that's a Kit Kat
     Did the Lambo my way with a sick wrap
     Smooth as Frank Sinatra with a motherfucking slick back
     No rats in my pack, ain't no wrinkles in my slacks
     Counting singles in my Shaqs, stacking Pringles from the crack
     Nigga I was on the bus with it
     Had 12 stuck to my chest in the field with the colt
     Andrew Luck with it
     We had the rock, hit the block like what's up with it
     Jay was in the Z, my young gunnas in the truck with it
     Sigel would've loved it, Philly would've fucked with it
     California state property you niggas stuck with it
     Brrrring, sold Peedi Crakk
     Game was on the block in his beanie with a Mac
     I'm what you rap niggas 'fraid of
     A Compton nigga that could go bar for bar with Jada
     Let me tell you who suck, like banana Now or Laters
     Blac Chyna head the bomb, al-Qaeda
     Listen, you want beef I'll cater
     Game snap on everything he like a fucking wild gator
     Silver and black Ghost, nigga that's Al Davis
     Give me Left Eye back, take Fetty Wap and the Raiders
     The Rams is back, them bullets getting tossed
     16 on your back like you fucking Jeff Goff
     Your man acting girly too put 30 on his chest
     Kanye shrug bitch, welcome to the west
     YG, Nipsey, and Kendrick yea check
     Shout 'em out I just do it like a fucking Nike rep
     Bentley truck Chuck, with the Henny cupped up
     Don't get me fucked up, you see the semi tucked, duck
     Pass the Goose, where them duck ducks?
     These hoes foaming at the mouth, they got Penny fucked up
     I'm 'bout to poke 'em like a cactus
     Told that bitch to roll the Philly for the game, and she talking about practice
     The Maybach is A.I
     Artificial intelligence motherfucker that's Junior Seau
     All my doors suicide, I'm in Vegas shoot the five
     Tell the dealer pay me don't be shy he ain't from Do or Die
     Now do you wanna ride, back seat of my Caddy?
     Used to flip them pies ain't no relation to Patti
     And I move Ps, ain't no relation to Swaggy
     Before that it was missing teeth and nickel sack baggies
     That's caine, no daddy cause I ain't really have one
     And you can't call yourself dope if you ain't never bag none
     I'm the old DMX you niggas Drag-On
     Game raw as fuck like poking holes in the Magnum
     Used to ether the niggas in all of my 16s
     Now I scare 'em once a year like I'm fucking Halloween
     This ain't a dream, nigga hurricane a nightmare
     Stab you in your sleep and smack your baby out his highchair
     Your daddy was a bitch, I had to do it
     I ain't need no ski mask to do it
     Murder is Rihanna and I'm attracted to it
     Name a state, I'll send a package through it
     If the fed hack into it, they get bossed on like I'm Massachusetts
     Sitting in this Maybach with music
     Your head is like Mustard beat and I'll put the ratchet to it
     PARTY sent my jackas to it
     Drama bring the Mac into it
     And this scope will get your mouth washed when I attach it to it
     Gold on my neck, I make your bitch put her back into it
     Usain Bolt if you bring a real track into it
     Another classic moving the way to Aftermath to do it
     Dre had the Chronic all I did was put the matches to it
     Traffic moving backwards through it
     Ever since I had the Buick
     Known for putting cheese on niggas heads the way the Packers do it
     And I had the yay, yea I brought crack to music
     Every situation in rap, I've been a savage through it
     And all these hoes getting mad cause I'm smashing through 'em
     They can get a ring one day, if the Cavs can do it
     Be LeBron bitch, I'm Jayceon bitch
     Who else you seen parked at the swap meet in James Bond shit?
     Another foreign car driven by a convict
     Aventador matte black Akon lips
     Nas ether niggas, Game napalm shit
     Niggas say my name I pop up like the State Farm bitch
     No nigga can see me, on or off TV
     Gun by them Yeezys, I'm the 6' 5" Eazy
     Lightskin bitches be mad and talking greasy
     I'ma start fucking them Dej Loafs and Dreezy's
     I'ma start beefing with Cole, Drizzy and Cornrow Kenny
     Or you could pick your favorite rapper, and he gon' be pouring out Henny
     I got a bitch from Minne-Apolis pack a semi
     Bang the ratchet at Denny's and fly herself back to Philly
     She got a couple mill and she don't even know Meek
     And ever since that nigga snitched on me we just don't speak
     See that shit you got with Drake is like a slow leak
     Blood'll be dripping like Niagara if I poke Meek
     Nicki won't get no sleep, I'm coming through at 4 a.m
     Four deep, to leave his dead body on the soaked sheets
     It could happen lowkey
     You better have Ross call me or you gon' be eye level with a roach feet

     This ain't a diss, nigga
     This is all lives matter except this nigga's

     This 1992 shit ain't no new shit
     We in that all black you won't know who Blood and who Crip
     With guns big enough to sink a fucking cruise ship
     Fuck around and be a news clip with them loose lips
     My nigga Drizzy packed you out and you ain't do shit
     This the Golden State and my shooters ain't on no hoop shit
     Nigga, you know that I'll snap you like a toothpick
     And snitching on niggas ain't never been no cool shit
     And I've been wanting to give Nicki this pool stick
     So tell your lil' vivrant thing come fuck with Q-Tip
     We know where you live, nigga, you better move quick
     And start thinking twice about who you hop in the coupe with
                        

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