The Game – 92 Bars (Meek Mill Diss) lyrics

This that sick rap, kick back
Where b**hes love The Game like Tyson Beckford six pack
I can k** you in four bars that’s a Kit-Kat
[?] is Frank Sinatra with a motherf**ing slick back
Counting singles in my Shaqs
n***a I was on the bus with it
We had the rock, hit the block like what’s up with it
Sigel would’ve loved it, Philly would’ve f**ed with it
Game was on the block in his beanie with a mac
A Compton n***a that could go bar for bar with Jada
Blac Chyna head the bomb, Al-Qaeda
Listen, you want beef I’ll cater
Silver and black Ghost, n***a that’s Al Davis
Give me Left Eye back, take Fetty Wap and the Raiders
16 on your back like you f**ing Jeff [?]
Kanye shrug b**h, walk ’em to the west
Shout ’em out I just do it like a f**ing Nike rep
Don’t get me f**ed up, you see the semi tucked up
I’m ’bout to poke ’em like a cactus
Told that b**h to roll to Philly for the game, and she talking about practice
The Maybach is A.I
All my door suicide, I’m in Vegas shoot the five
Tell the dealer pay me don’t be shy he ain’t from do or die
Used to flip them pies ain’t no relate to Patty
Before that it was missing teeth and nickle sag baggies
You can’t call yourself fopr if you ain’t never bag none
Game raw as f** like poking holes in the Magnum
Now I scare ’em once a year like I’m f**ing Halloween
Stab you in your sleep and smack your baby out his highchair
I ain’t need no ski mask to do it
If the fed hack into it, they get bossed on like I’m Ma**achusetts
Sitting in this Maybach with music
Party sent my jackets to it
And this scope will get your mouth washed when I attach it to it
Usain Bolt if you bring a real track into it
Dre had the Chronic and I did was put the matches to it
Traffic moving backwards through it
Ever since I had the Buick
Known for putting cheese
Gun by the Yeezy’s, I’m the 6′ 5″ Eazy
Lightskin n***as be mad and talking breezy
I’mma start beefing with Cole, Drizzy and corn row Kenny
I got a b**h from Minne-Apolis pack a semi
Bang the ratchet at Denny’s and fly herself back to Philly
She got a couple mills and she don’t even know Meek
See that sh** you got with Drake is like a slow leak
Nicki won’t get no sleep, I’m coming through at 4 a.m
It could happen lowkey
You better have Ross call me or you gon’ be eye level with a roach feet
This 1992 sh** ain’t no new sh**
With guns big enough to sink a f**ing cruise ship
f** around and be a news clip with them loose lips
This the Golden State and my shooters ain’t on no hoop sh**
And snitching on n***as ain’t never been no cool sh**
So tell your lil’ vibrant thing come f** with Q-Tip
And start thinking twice about who you hop in the coup with

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