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Rules Of The Game (Jermaine Dupri)

See around here How many things can make why y'all bounce you-know-I'm-saying? Left to right, right to left Its so so def And uh, yo, let it go Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, come down with your strap-on strap-on Niggas love to hate, so get your cap-on cap-on One for my niggas ain't down for hoes Free drinks for my niggas staying crunk throwing bows Its ya boy Manish Man in this bitch Niggas love to hate, hoes jock cause I'm getting rich Keep my mind on my fetti just to let you know Strapped with rocks, reds, and camera's in my black fo'fo On the east-side nigga trying to get me some paper Lying throwing stone out all over the cater These hoes be lovin the player, Jason calling me baby But fuck that, I rather trot these hoes are too damn shady Look I don't need a bitch, I'm riding down for me And fuck a gang of niggas, see I'm a soldier G And ain't another nigga, who got more got game than me You need to check yo shit, because its lame to me Since 91 been paying the cost, to be the boss Got no time to floss, because the game's throwed off Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, come down with your strap-on strap-on Niggas love to hate, so get your cap-on cap-on Number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, don't forget to put ya strap on ya side Nigga who ride who ride South-side, South-side If anybody know bout paper-chasing its me Playboy J to the, E-N-D Steady showing niggas how we do it down south Steady riding shit that ain't even came out In the club, VIP is where you find me at Private planes, ice chains, I don't know how to act Every city, got me something pretty keep em on they back "If I ain't a hot boy then what do you call that" If its my shit, off the top you can tell Cranberry, pineapple, four bottles of bale Cats that play sports, rap fresh from jail Hoes in packs, screaming out ATL See I'm the type of nigga that was built for cash Drive me and dropping putting down a smash Knowing nothing in life, but how to make these hits Get paper, spit game in, pull me a bitch Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, come down with your strap-on strap-on Niggas love to hate, so get your cap-on cap-on Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, don't forget to put the strap on ya side Nigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-side Fuck these hoes, fuck these snitches Down south niggas, chop twenty-inches Fuck these snitches, and fuck these hoes Four TV screen's, big Chevy four do's Niggas best believe I'ma represent Hardcore niggas getting dead presidents Where the real niggas went, I'ma let you know Lay back with the strap, and they ain't found no mo' These lil niggas tripping, all that hollering-screaming I know yo momma saw dick, she should've swallowed that semen Now I'm driving through your block, red hot like a demon Cock it back, all you see is the beam from my demon And it ain't no ping ping nigga, black-eye black-eye No respect for the game, you better watch-out watch-out Got this shit on lock, and now you locked-out locked-out All that hate on a player, gone get you knocked-out knocked-out Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, come down with your strap-on strap-on Niggas love to hate, so get your cap-on cap-on Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, don't forget to put the strap on ya side Nigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-side