Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth

It's Not A Game
[CL Smooth] Introducing the Mecca fusion, physical type of funk using Carmel cruising, brohter your latest lover smothered for deeper cover Ass blown to breaks, individualized the fakes Just because you're pouring syrup on this don't make it pancakes My vocal assaults kept bouncing many amounts that count slackness Pete Rock's sounds of blackness The dark guages the flavor I supply Now it's do or die, others are rolling the chocolate thai I rip holes in shows, then move flocks of foes in straight The Devil will find a way to infiltrate, never pray I hear the scandal that be couped up in my town So now we "Gotta Get Away" like Bobby Brown The women will call it two letters that are instrumental I focus my eyesight and run it down your genitals Another dame when I tear it out the frame Then armageddon came, it's not a game, it's on It's not a game, no, with the Pete Rock funk When the kids up in the Vernon got the flavor It's not a game, no, with the Mecca Don flow When the kids up in the Vernon got the flavor [x2] It's not a game when the Mecca Kane lucifer knows your name Now I think I'm on the verge of black male growing extinct Now my survival they libel the label homicidal Letras de cancionesMy spirits aren't idle, now you put your hands on the Bible Now the opposite of my God is Nimrod Taught by Master Faud, hard, now I'm pulling your card We travel, unravel, dabble in the dopeness A jam that make you want to know who wrote this A sctipture from an odyssey, brothers in high velocity And just like BDP, you know "My Philsophy" Yeah here to outlast it, to never see the casket A flute can make a snake rise up from the basket So Pete Rock here we go, master the flow (I don't want to be the last to know) With the mellow funk tunes arriving with the card trainer plain The black House of Pain, it's not a game, it's on It's not a game, no, with the Pete Rock funk When the kids up in the Vernon got the flavor It's not a game, no, with the Mecca Don flow When the kids up in the Vernon got the flavor [x2] The lucci's mine like the summertime, and I'm a set it first Leaving a hearse when my third verse loads up to burst To blast, never to tresspass, going to funk, keeping the crowd touring The lyric is born on any stage we're walking on So non-believer meet the Mecca, be chopping 'em like a meat cleaver The scrambling quarterback and I'm the wide reciever I get past you, and when it becomes a war I go hardcore, matador, then all the bull is on the floor I look and find the level of crime the time that I decipher I'm bagging any sniper put a ball in Peter's Piper We made the album of the year, rememer the Source kicks? We should have been larger but it's all politics So (Why you wanna, uh huh, play your games on me?) Cause you called me a factor, get your skully cracked The truth is coming to take mine You want to take away more stitches than a Frankenstein In '93 me and the P.R. make the dough The honeys are licking all over my 5 o'clock shadow A meanace to society, the pistol-packing YG Mecca's the name, it's not a game, so don't try me It's not a game, no, with the Pete Rock funk When the kids up in the Vernon got the flavor It's not a game, no, with the Mecca Don flow When the kids up in the Vernon got the flavor [x2] From Letras Mania