The Games You Play Lyrics
| Song | The Games You Play |
| Artist | VOICE |
| Artist | Wax Tailor |
| Album | Live 2010 A L'Olympia |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : LeSaoût, Tailor, Touré, Voice | |
| When I was a kid | |
| We used to play a game | |
| I think you know the rules of our game | |
| I have no time to play games | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sit, hear the clock tick | |
| Watch the leaves on the plant flick | |
| From the fan above, the room and I lit | |
| Head trip, deliberate | |
| Cease fighting the feeling and submit, flow with it | |
| Like the path pre exists in hidden codes Masonic | |
| They peep us like a web cam from the pyramid's attic | |
| Passed from hand to hand, let's say coincidence | |
| Or better yet, sixth sense | |
| My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense | |
| My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense | |
| Brush it off and commence | |
| Blame it on myself tripping | |
| 'Til the shit hits the fan | |
| 'Cause I steered from the plan | |
| About face, and Billy Jean step into place | |
| Throw my coat on the hook | |
| Recap the time that I wasted | |
| I know that spitting's a bad habit | |
| But I can't help the taste | |
| Still searching for the clues as it becomes a cold case | |
| Procrastinator | |
| 'Til I think to remove the sheet from your face | |
| Reveal the naysayer | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| How could you do this to me | |
| Me, me, me, me | |
| Don't you ever get tired of thinking about your dope, greedy small self | |
| Now you ain't saying nada | |
| Sweating, getting hotta | |
| Change your tune, why botha | |
| I'm bought to rip you up | |
| Such a control freak | |
| You mouth the word's I speak | |
| You question me, but you ain't even listening | |
| You're world is make believe | |
| But I keep pretending that i'm flexible | |
| So you think your will's got me bending | |
| Putting all your energy into negativity | |
| You holding over me while you steady scheming | |
| But I'm making moves | |
| While you're sleeping and dreaming | |
| Of being larger than life | |
| You own hype you believing | |
| Well now, you've been faking the funk since the beginning | |
| Too many chapters in now to rewrite and fix the ending | |
| Besides, you question what kind of message that be sending | |
| That you's a chump, punk butt, so what | |
| I care not of the role you choose to play | |
| By the way | |
| I'm sure of a beginning and an end | |
| But everything in between is all grey | |
| All grey, all grey, all grey | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| I don't understand this game |
| zuo qu : LeSao t, Tailor, Toure, Voice | |
| When I was a kid | |
| We used to play a game | |
| I think you know the rules of our game | |
| I have no time to play games | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sit, hear the clock tick | |
| Watch the leaves on the plant flick | |
| From the fan above, the room and I lit | |
| Head trip, deliberate | |
| Cease fighting the feeling and submit, flow with it | |
| Like the path pre exists in hidden codes Masonic | |
| They peep us like a web cam from the pyramid' s attic | |
| Passed from hand to hand, let' s say coincidence | |
| Or better yet, sixth sense | |
| My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense | |
| My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense | |
| Brush it off and commence | |
| Blame it on myself tripping | |
| ' Til the shit hits the fan | |
| ' Cause I steered from the plan | |
| About face, and Billy Jean step into place | |
| Throw my coat on the hook | |
| Recap the time that I wasted | |
| I know that spitting' s a bad habit | |
| But I can' t help the taste | |
| Still searching for the clues as it becomes a cold case | |
| Procrastinator | |
| ' Til I think to remove the sheet from your face | |
| Reveal the naysayer | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| How could you do this to me | |
| Me, me, me, me | |
| Don' t you ever get tired of thinking about your dope, greedy small self | |
| Now you ain' t saying nada | |
| Sweating, getting hotta | |
| Change your tune, why botha | |
| I' m bought to rip you up | |
| Such a control freak | |
| You mouth the word' s I speak | |
| You question me, but you ain' t even listening | |
| You' re world is make believe | |
| But I keep pretending that i' m flexible | |
| So you think your will' s got me bending | |
| Putting all your energy into negativity | |
| You holding over me while you steady scheming | |
| But I' m making moves | |
| While you' re sleeping and dreaming | |
| Of being larger than life | |
| You own hype you believing | |
| Well now, you' ve been faking the funk since the beginning | |
| Too many chapters in now to rewrite and fix the ending | |
| Besides, you question what kind of message that be sending | |
| That you' s a chump, punk butt, so what | |
| I care not of the role you choose to play | |
| By the way | |
| I' m sure of a beginning and an end | |
| But everything in between is all grey | |
| All grey, all grey, all grey | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| I don' t understand this game |
| zuò qǔ : LeSao t, Tailor, Touré, Voice | |
| When I was a kid | |
| We used to play a game | |
| I think you know the rules of our game | |
| I have no time to play games | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sit, hear the clock tick | |
| Watch the leaves on the plant flick | |
| From the fan above, the room and I lit | |
| Head trip, deliberate | |
| Cease fighting the feeling and submit, flow with it | |
| Like the path pre exists in hidden codes Masonic | |
| They peep us like a web cam from the pyramid' s attic | |
| Passed from hand to hand, let' s say coincidence | |
| Or better yet, sixth sense | |
| My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense | |
| My instincts telling me to back up from that handshake that was intense | |
| Brush it off and commence | |
| Blame it on myself tripping | |
| ' Til the shit hits the fan | |
| ' Cause I steered from the plan | |
| About face, and Billy Jean step into place | |
| Throw my coat on the hook | |
| Recap the time that I wasted | |
| I know that spitting' s a bad habit | |
| But I can' t help the taste | |
| Still searching for the clues as it becomes a cold case | |
| Procrastinator | |
| ' Til I think to remove the sheet from your face | |
| Reveal the naysayer | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| How could you do this to me | |
| Me, me, me, me | |
| Don' t you ever get tired of thinking about your dope, greedy small self | |
| Now you ain' t saying nada | |
| Sweating, getting hotta | |
| Change your tune, why botha | |
| I' m bought to rip you up | |
| Such a control freak | |
| You mouth the word' s I speak | |
| You question me, but you ain' t even listening | |
| You' re world is make believe | |
| But I keep pretending that i' m flexible | |
| So you think your will' s got me bending | |
| Putting all your energy into negativity | |
| You holding over me while you steady scheming | |
| But I' m making moves | |
| While you' re sleeping and dreaming | |
| Of being larger than life | |
| You own hype you believing | |
| Well now, you' ve been faking the funk since the beginning | |
| Too many chapters in now to rewrite and fix the ending | |
| Besides, you question what kind of message that be sending | |
| That you' s a chump, punk butt, so what | |
| I care not of the role you choose to play | |
| By the way | |
| I' m sure of a beginning and an end | |
| But everything in between is all grey | |
| All grey, all grey, all grey | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| Sometimes I flow staccato | |
| Strip you of vibrato | |
| While you be acting macho | |
| I try and switch it up | |
| I see the games you play | |
| And the traps you lay | |
| Not fit to fall in | |
| But I let you play them anyway | |
| I don' t understand this game |
Similar Songs
YouTube Results (More on YouTube)