Lirik Lagu Rules of The Game (feat. Manish Man) - Jermaine Dupri
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ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI SYAIR
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Tanpamu tiada berarti
Tak mampu lagi berdiri
Cahaya kasihmu menuntunku
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- Hindari kata-kata yang berkemungkinan memiliki ada dua versi atau lebih. Misal: tanpamu dapat ditulis tanpa mu.
TETAP TIDAK DAPAT MENEMUKAN LIRIK YANG ANDA CARI
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- Bila masih tidak dapat menemukan lirik yang Anda cari, mungkin kami bisa membantu Anda. Silakan menghubungi kami.
[JD]uhuh, uh, youhuh, uh yoSee around hereHow many things can make y'all bounce you-know-im-sayin?Left to right, right to leftuh, its so so defand uh, yo, let it go
[Chorus: Manish Man]Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheeseNumber two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they kneesNumber three, come down with your strap-on strap-onNiggas love to hate, so get your cap-on cap-on
[Manish Man]One for my niggas aint down for hoesFree drinks for my niggas stayin crunk throwin bowsIts ya boy Manish Man in this bitchNiggas love to hate, hoes jock cause I'm gettin richKeep my mind on my fetti just to let you knowStrapped with rocks, reds, and camera's in my black fo'foOn the east-side nigga tryin to get me some paperLythonia, Stone Mountain, all over DecaturThese hoes be lovin the player, Jason calling me babyBut fuck that, I rather trot these hoes are too damn shadyLook I dont need a bitch, I'm ridin down for meAnd fuck a gang of niggas, see I'm a soldier GAnd aint another nigga, who got more got game than meYou need to check yo shit, because its lame to meSince 91 been payin the cost, to be the bossGot no time to floss, because the game's throwed off
[Chorus]
[Manish Man]Number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheeseNumber two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they kneesNumber three, dont forget to put ya strap on ya sideNigga who ride who ride
[JD]uh, South-side, South-sideIf anybody know bout paper-chasing its mePlayboy J to the, E-N-DSteady showin niggas how we do it down southSteady ridin shit that aint even came outIn the club, VIP is where you find me atPrivate planes, ice chains, I dont know how to actEvery city, got me somethin pretty keep em on they back"If I aint a hot boy then what do you call that"If its my shit, off the top you can tellCranberry, pineapple, four bottles of baleCats that play sports, rap fresh from jailHoes in packs, screamin out ATLSee I'm the type of nigga that was built for cashDrive me and droppin puttin down a smashKnowin nothing in life, but how to make these hitsGet paper, spit game in, pull me a bitch
[Chorus]
[Manish Man]Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheeseNumber two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they kneesNumber three, dont forget to put the strap on ya sideNigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-sideFuck these hoes, fuck these snitchesDown south niggas, chop twenty-inchesFuck these snitches, and fuck these hoesFour TV screen's, big chevy four do'sNiggas best believe imma representHardcore niggas gettin dead presidentsWhere the real niggas went, imma let you knowLay back with the strap, and they aint found no mo'These lil niggas trippin, all that hollarin-screaminI know yo momma saw dick, she should've swallowed that semenNow I'm drivin through your block, red hot like a demonCock it back, all you see is the beam from my demonAnd it aint no ping ping nigga, black-eye black-eyeNo respect for the game, you better watch-out watch-outGot this shit on lock, and now you locked-out locked-outAll that hate on a playa, gone get you knocked-out knocked-out
[Chorus]
[Manish Man]Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheeseNumber two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they kneesNumber three, dont forget to put the strap on ya sideNigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-side
[Chorus: Manish Man]Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheeseNumber two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they kneesNumber three, come down with your strap-on strap-onNiggas love to hate, so get your cap-on cap-on
[Manish Man]One for my niggas aint down for hoesFree drinks for my niggas stayin crunk throwin bowsIts ya boy Manish Man in this bitchNiggas love to hate, hoes jock cause I'm gettin richKeep my mind on my fetti just to let you knowStrapped with rocks, reds, and camera's in my black fo'foOn the east-side nigga tryin to get me some paperLythonia, Stone Mountain, all over DecaturThese hoes be lovin the player, Jason calling me babyBut fuck that, I rather trot these hoes are too damn shadyLook I dont need a bitch, I'm ridin down for meAnd fuck a gang of niggas, see I'm a soldier GAnd aint another nigga, who got more got game than meYou need to check yo shit, because its lame to meSince 91 been payin the cost, to be the bossGot no time to floss, because the game's throwed off
[Chorus]
[Manish Man]Number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheeseNumber two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they kneesNumber three, dont forget to put ya strap on ya sideNigga who ride who ride
[JD]uh, South-side, South-sideIf anybody know bout paper-chasing its mePlayboy J to the, E-N-DSteady showin niggas how we do it down southSteady ridin shit that aint even came outIn the club, VIP is where you find me atPrivate planes, ice chains, I dont know how to actEvery city, got me somethin pretty keep em on they back"If I aint a hot boy then what do you call that"If its my shit, off the top you can tellCranberry, pineapple, four bottles of baleCats that play sports, rap fresh from jailHoes in packs, screamin out ATLSee I'm the type of nigga that was built for cashDrive me and droppin puttin down a smashKnowin nothing in life, but how to make these hitsGet paper, spit game in, pull me a bitch
[Chorus]
[Manish Man]Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheeseNumber two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they kneesNumber three, dont forget to put the strap on ya sideNigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-sideFuck these hoes, fuck these snitchesDown south niggas, chop twenty-inchesFuck these snitches, and fuck these hoesFour TV screen's, big chevy four do'sNiggas best believe imma representHardcore niggas gettin dead presidentsWhere the real niggas went, imma let you knowLay back with the strap, and they aint found no mo'These lil niggas trippin, all that hollarin-screaminI know yo momma saw dick, she should've swallowed that semenNow I'm drivin through your block, red hot like a demonCock it back, all you see is the beam from my demonAnd it aint no ping ping nigga, black-eye black-eyeNo respect for the game, you better watch-out watch-outGot this shit on lock, and now you locked-out locked-outAll that hate on a playa, gone get you knocked-out knocked-out
[Chorus]
[Manish Man]Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheeseNumber two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they kneesNumber three, dont forget to put the strap on ya sideNigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-side
