Artist : Dr. Dre
Song Titel : Game over
Album : Unbekannt
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Man, What's up with these niggas out here?
Mad at us 'cause we on top.
I love to see niggas gettin' money...
Better get it while the gettin' is good.
Get it while you can, man.
And stop hatin' me.
Fuckin' with my shit 'cause I got mo' hustle than you?
Get yours... Get yours, baby...
I'm seeing millions. Niggas don't understand. Know what?
I'm makin' moves, puttin' cash behind plans to blow up.
Will he style like this? Everyday I parley,
Sip Henney and Tanqueray. Stay in the mix like Alazay.
VIP - My shit parked vallet. On the prowler gettin'
To get honeys familiar with the smile again.
Some try to assault Dre, it is still cavvy.
I'm eatin' steak while they struggle to break the slave mentality.
I'm givin livin' defenition. Long as my hearts tickin'
I fought and make the world listen.
Whatever flop Dr Dre invented, turn on The Box
And let my son watch these studio clowns on 60".
I push her over - shit platinum before the session's over.
Rap Master with the Houston Heatholder.
These playahz best to get they shit in shack,
'Cause when I get my hustle on ain't no playin' with a fool jack...

[Chorus] x2
Lord, please burn 'em - my enemies. Yeah...
Burn 'em at a thousand degrees.
And, Lord, please let me make mo' cheese,
'Cause I ain't quite ready to leave... No...

Fuck the whole world - meant that.
Gotta stay strapped 'cause 99.9 of niggas carry they gats
to a fistfight and shit might come down to death.
When the time comes down for the tryin' I got 9 reasons
Why a nigga shouldn't step in my face with the nonsense,
'Cause I'm always heated and you can taste this.
Haul a lil' somethin' out from the scenes of my trousers.
With no hesitation I got a team to come clown ya, I'll down ya.
So let yo people know what they face with the type of individual
That'll bomb a cell-station.
Kaboom! And everybody dies outside.
It ain't no escaping The Reaper, so don't try.
Go ahead, close your eyes. Who is the next to step?
Face down, hit, leanin' on the steps of it.
Now check yo'self. You just been invaded by true soldiers.
December 31st '96, The Game is over...

[Chorus] x2

I've got all my life to live,
Plus with all my love to give...
Smokin' weed, I never trail, I lead.
Spendin' dough, trick the cost of a ride like it was pocketmoney, G.
But these are the things real playahz do.
Talkin' shit is real things that the haters do.
I'm naming you!
Shit stink, it's time to run for shelter.
I give the word things could happen to marks, like it was Helter
Skelter.

Dear diary, I've runnin' out of pages.
Fadin' in and out takin' purple hazes.
The Day is this, revelations in the last stages.
Red skies listen to the silent horn's flavor.
I'm bringin' with tears in my eyes
'Cause I'm tryin' to make it into eternal peace without dyin'.
But they eye in my bankaccount with beams on my Rover.
The killer-fielder launches attack, The Game is over...

[Chorus] x2