When Shit Get Thick

(feat. JT the Bigga Figga, Sean T)

[20 second instrumental to open]

[The Game]

Who really the best rapper since 'Pac got killed

I done answered that question when I copped my deal

Ask yourself when the Game is comin, after next summer

I predict my shit'll drop before the next Howard homecoming

Now who in the runnin, no one, ask the niggaz who want it

I got a four-fifth and it just like me, it stay gunnin

Me and my niggaz stay blunted fogged up in the 600

Guilty as charged, blunts in the air, guns in the doors

It's written, Compton niggaz never run from the law

Plus we get Monopoly money with hotels and a board

So I'll never see a jail, and I'm allergic to bars

Can't sit behind 'em or drink at 'em, so we travel with ours

Poppin Crist' in the 6, like we drivin through Mardi Gras

Thinkin 'bout beads and titties as I roll through the city

And I keep 16 in the clip, and I let 'em all go

like the Lakers did Ellie, Atty and Nick, huh

[Chorus]

When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin

Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin

Payback come through violent, nigga

We hit blocks, bust shots, leave ya whole block silent, cause

When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin

Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin

Payback come through violent, nigga

We hit blocks, bust shots, leave ya whole block silent

[Sean T]

No garbage we smoke molta, move big cocoa

We off the train tracks like the great space coaster

We hit real big and consistant like Sam Sosa

Prepare for war, like United States soldiers

Lock tight and rock right like grey eight oz's

I'll be hittin up spots, in them flip Range Rovers

Before you even try to play, foolish all over

Empty out yo' pockets, turn everything over

We ball out cursin yeah we keep it the sickest

When we roll by the quads in them Z-66's

Big spittin, grip kitten, that big face greed

Always dirty never clean but we live like kings

Legendary like Sting, it's a history to follow

But not known for stingin known for gettin off hollows

Shoot me a glass of Remy, nah fuck it the whole bottle

And watch me act bad and take off, full throttle

[Chorus]

[JT the Bigga Figga]

I'm from a batch where it ain't no cut, we all in

36 on a triple beam scale for meal

Duffle bag on my shoulder my route, through the back of the jet

To bag up baguettes and everybody know it

I'm the iceholder makin the cut, never breakin 'em up

My favorite color is rainbowed up

Ain't a coke dealer, but I got bricks for cheap

Hit the lab for a fo' day block, we got heat

You niggaz can't compete when I walk in the streets

We Get Low, and there's no idea with the info

It's a rule of thumb, let them dudes a come

I'm cruisin some, 20 inch shoes and some

I'm in the widebody XM-5, all my snakes is live

We check your five, the spot where the tec dies

And everybody gotta holla the name

It's JT from the Fillmoe streets to CPT