Change the Game (Feat. Ty Dolla $ign)
Relax your mind, let your conscience feel free
You're now fuckin' with Hit-Boy and G-A-M-E
It's Dolla $ign in this motherfucker (Dolla $ign)
Wrist nigga, big tipper, quarter mill', my wrist, nigga
It's the Numinati (bitches) move your body (this is)
The newest Audi, gassin' on the shore next to Snoop and Roddy
(Niggas) movin' oppy, so we in the coupe with shawties
And my nigga Ye just pulled up in two Bugattis
Don't ask me how these Hit-Boy classics sound
Put the Draco on my face, you can't back me down
Soon as the bass drop, asses bounce
And bitches just like the blunts, they get passed around
Give me the chronic or the cookies, the woods gon' spark to it
Niggas tryna ride our wave, we bringin' the sharks to it
Where my dawgs at? Glocks gon' bang in the dark to it
Brought the Westside back, C-walk in the park to it
Game mode, 'bout to change my name to 3Pacs, nigga
I'm like three Pacs steppin' in classic Reeboks, nigga
We shoot 'til it's empty, then we box niggas
It's like an R hangin' from your neck when we Roc niggas
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we's supposed
Ty Dolla in this bitch
And we high, we ride in that Impala with the clips
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we's supposed
Hurricane in the house, nigga
Switch hitter, brick flipper, bitch getter, nigga
Still here, never left
Bandana on my right, Nip tatted on my chest
Feel the Hit-Boy drums when they drummin' on the West
Chronic smoke in her lungs, got her rubbin' on her breasts
What's next? Pourin' champagne on the rose
'Bout to fuck her in the rain 'til her nipples get cold, uh-huh
Numinati, put the ice on the gold
Got her livin' out the Birkin 'cause my life on the road
Whether in or out of town, I gotta floss the Dezzi
Get shot, I tell the block, "All dogs go to heaven"
I'm not gon' stop, them tops is gon' drop
The opps is gon' rot, them guns is gon' pop
Been rich for twenty years, this is not your level
Wanna show 'em the Hellcat, I just shot the devil, uh
Drillmatic up and the bars comin' from Attica
I stopped smoking weed and I'm goin' back to Africa
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we's supposed
Ty Dolla in this bitch
And we high, we ride in that Impala with the clips
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we's supposed
Hurricane in the house, nigga
Switch hitter, brick flipper, bitch getter, nigga
You're now fuckin' with Hit-Boy and G-A-M-E
It's Dolla $ign in this motherfucker (Dolla $ign)
Wrist nigga, big tipper, quarter mill', my wrist, nigga
It's the Numinati (bitches) move your body (this is)
The newest Audi, gassin' on the shore next to Snoop and Roddy
(Niggas) movin' oppy, so we in the coupe with shawties
And my nigga Ye just pulled up in two Bugattis
Don't ask me how these Hit-Boy classics sound
Put the Draco on my face, you can't back me down
Soon as the bass drop, asses bounce
And bitches just like the blunts, they get passed around
Give me the chronic or the cookies, the woods gon' spark to it
Niggas tryna ride our wave, we bringin' the sharks to it
Where my dawgs at? Glocks gon' bang in the dark to it
Brought the Westside back, C-walk in the park to it
Game mode, 'bout to change my name to 3Pacs, nigga
I'm like three Pacs steppin' in classic Reeboks, nigga
We shoot 'til it's empty, then we box niggas
It's like an R hangin' from your neck when we Roc niggas
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we's supposed
Ty Dolla in this bitch
And we high, we ride in that Impala with the clips
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we's supposed
Hurricane in the house, nigga
Switch hitter, brick flipper, bitch getter, nigga
Still here, never left
Bandana on my right, Nip tatted on my chest
Feel the Hit-Boy drums when they drummin' on the West
Chronic smoke in her lungs, got her rubbin' on her breasts
What's next? Pourin' champagne on the rose
'Bout to fuck her in the rain 'til her nipples get cold, uh-huh
Numinati, put the ice on the gold
Got her livin' out the Birkin 'cause my life on the road
Whether in or out of town, I gotta floss the Dezzi
Get shot, I tell the block, "All dogs go to heaven"
I'm not gon' stop, them tops is gon' drop
The opps is gon' rot, them guns is gon' pop
Been rich for twenty years, this is not your level
Wanna show 'em the Hellcat, I just shot the devil, uh
Drillmatic up and the bars comin' from Attica
I stopped smoking weed and I'm goin' back to Africa
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we's supposed
Ty Dolla in this bitch
And we high, we ride in that Impala with the clips
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we's supposed
Hurricane in the house, nigga
Switch hitter, brick flipper, bitch getter, nigga
Credits
Writer(s): Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Chauncey A. Hollis, Tyrone William Griffin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.