| Song | Get Chopped |
| Artist | The Click |
| Album | Game Related |
| 作曲 : Mosley, Stevens, Stevens | |
| Game must be focused upon, game | |
| If you ain't got game you ain't got nathin' | |
| (What you say) | |
| If you ain't got game you ain't got nathin', game | |
| (Then spit it) | |
| A nigga spent his last quadruple of cash | |
| Hopin' that the plane wouldn't crash | |
| Out smarted the task while teachin' they ass | |
| Bouts the other side of the grass | |
| Uh, I spits the truth from the soil untold | |
| See 340 in ya pager, that's the code | |
| Hit me back 'cause you know he's busy off the hook | |
| Plus the hurricane ethyl got him too took | |
| Drug instances, penitentiary chances | |
| Circumstances, gigantic ass live enhancements | |
| Keep on mashin' though, don't quit | |
| Game related, comin' from the ****in' click | |
| Now that I made the major leagues | |
| Pushin' big KI's | |
| Niggas from my block ain't tryin' to see me | |
| I came up too fast for them punks hoes | |
| Now them fools wants to kick in my door | |
| Bringin' over the change if you think that you can **** with this | |
| Bam, pops to the dome bitch | |
| Mother****ers hate to see a true nigga flamboast | |
| Bringin' in more net than gross | |
| They wants to kick in my spot, boom get chopped | |
| They wanna take me for what I got, boom get chopped | |
| They wants to strike through my block, boom get chopped | |
| But I'm up on they plot, boom get chopped | |
| Bitch, feelin' evil like Knievel lookin' for a wrench | |
| Gotta a couple screws loose like the Grinch | |
| Problem child ain't got no problem with disposin' | |
| Lose me temper, lose me cool but on the same token | |
| He ain't gon' bust a grip, man that nigga E-40 fakin' | |
| You failized I have ya whole family wear and taken | |
| Paper hatin' haters get put in they place | |
| Crevice achin' baggers get smacked in the face | |
| Niggas from the other side of town be talkin' big shit | |
| Actin' like they wanna **** with my click | |
| But the shit ain't changed **** the rap game | |
| Hill side nigga on a mission to proclaim | |
| My mother****in' spot in society | |
| South side niggas just jealous, they doubt me | |
| Punk niggas lookin' for a reason | |
| Kick off a rucus to start the funk season | |
| They wants to kick in my spot, boom get chopped | |
| They wanna take me for what I got, boom get chopped | |
| They wants to strike through my block, boom get chopped | |
| But I'm up on they plot, boom get chopped | |
| I ****s with ya, ya bitch | |
| Nigga get rich, fool don't you know this the click | |
| Be the hundred SL's what a nigga straight smash | |
| One hundred thousand in cash | |
| Follow the leader, trip on how this thing gets deeper | |
| The more I teach 'em the dumber I get | |
| Dizzy-izzy, hey shot these tardy niggas kill me | |
| But what they don't know is, I fly cerebral cortex like a frisbee | |
| **** 'em and feed 'em, pistol whip they ass and bleed 'em | |
| Stuck 'em and read 'em, find out where they snooze and sleep 'em | |
| You pearl tongues need to stop workin' for the cops | |
| Rot heads don't get no props, beotch |
| zuò qǔ : Mosley, Stevens, Stevens | |
| Game must be focused upon, game | |
| If you ain' t got game you ain' t got nathin' | |
| What you say | |
| If you ain' t got game you ain' t got nathin', game | |
| Then spit it | |
| A nigga spent his last quadruple of cash | |
| Hopin' that the plane wouldn' t crash | |
| Out smarted the task while teachin' they ass | |
| Bouts the other side of the grass | |
| Uh, I spits the truth from the soil untold | |
| See 340 in ya pager, that' s the code | |
| Hit me back ' cause you know he' s busy off the hook | |
| Plus the hurricane ethyl got him too took | |
| Drug instances, penitentiary chances | |
| Circumstances, gigantic ass live enhancements | |
| Keep on mashin' though, don' t quit | |
| Game related, comin' from the in' click | |
| Now that I made the major leagues | |
| Pushin' big KI' s | |
| Niggas from my block ain' t tryin' to see me | |
| I came up too fast for them punks hoes | |
| Now them fools wants to kick in my door | |
| Bringin' over the change if you think that you can with this | |
| Bam, pops to the dome bitch | |
| Mother ers hate to see a true nigga flamboast | |
| Bringin' in more net than gross | |
| They wants to kick in my spot, boom get chopped | |
| They wanna take me for what I got, boom get chopped | |
| They wants to strike through my block, boom get chopped | |
| But I' m up on they plot, boom get chopped | |
| Bitch, feelin' evil like Knievel lookin' for a wrench | |
| Gotta a couple screws loose like the Grinch | |
| Problem child ain' t got no problem with disposin' | |
| Lose me temper, lose me cool but on the same token | |
| He ain' t gon' bust a grip, man that nigga E40 fakin' | |
| You failized I have ya whole family wear and taken | |
| Paper hatin' haters get put in they place | |
| Crevice achin' baggers get smacked in the face | |
| Niggas from the other side of town be talkin' big shit | |
| Actin' like they wanna with my click | |
| But the shit ain' t changed the rap game | |
| Hill side nigga on a mission to proclaim | |
| My mother in' spot in society | |
| South side niggas just jealous, they doubt me | |
| Punk niggas lookin' for a reason | |
| Kick off a rucus to start the funk season | |
| They wants to kick in my spot, boom get chopped | |
| They wanna take me for what I got, boom get chopped | |
| They wants to strike through my block, boom get chopped | |
| But I' m up on they plot, boom get chopped | |
| I s with ya, ya bitch | |
| Nigga get rich, fool don' t you know this the click | |
| Be the hundred SL' s what a nigga straight smash | |
| One hundred thousand in cash | |
| Follow the leader, trip on how this thing gets deeper | |
| The more I teach ' em the dumber I get | |
| Dizzyizzy, hey shot these tardy niggas kill me | |
| But what they don' t know is, I fly cerebral cortex like a frisbee | |
| ' em and feed ' em, pistol whip they ass and bleed ' em | |
| Stuck ' em and read ' em, find out where they snooze and sleep ' em | |
| You pearl tongues need to stop workin' for the cops | |
| Rot heads don' t get no props, beotch |