(feat. Swizz Beatz)    [Swizz Beatz]   Yeah... y'all really want this to happen? (Game time!)  C'mon! ... ARRRRRRRRGH!    [The Game]  Homey it's hard not to kill niggaz; it's like a full time job  not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill  Young California got that mass appeal  I summons the hood, they get up in yo' ass for real  Knockout flow, Winky Wright jab for real  And all you niggaz pussy, need Massengil  See I'm the gun-cocker, one-shotter, lift 'em off the ground  Chop 'em down, like a cantaloupe, my flow the antidote  Sick flow, it's so, motherfuckin six-fo'  Your bitch know, hop in the back when you see Swizz hoe  Diss that, all you niggaz get up off my dick so  I can cook crack on the track and watch it mix slow  Cocaine, my flow fire, call it propane   Every nigga know Game, five shots no pain  And that's the reason why I'm shittin on you niggaz  Shut me in the looney bin, I'm sicker than you niggaz    [Chorus: repeat 2X]  (ARRRRRRRRGH!)  This is that disrespectful, motherfuckin West coast  Hip-hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go!    [The Game]  Where I'm from, I seen the most stand up niggaz lay down  Where skinny niggaz make buff niggaz victims of that trey-pound  And gangbangers is the sharpshooters, we don't need no rooftops  Just knock his ass down and take the money out his tube socks  West coast niggaz is back on the map  If only for now until the next time I body a track  From the first clap I hurt rap, now watch the earth crack  Bring the hearse back, and take a lyrical dirt nap  I roll with the hardest niggaz, make money with the smartest niggaz  I ain't got time for you fuckin artist niggaz  Better shut your trap before you become a target nigga  Y'all army brats I'm the motherfuckin sargeant nigga  Beauty pageant-ass niggaz on the runway  (Boyz N The Hood) 'til they see the nigga in that red Hyundai  Blow his fuckin back out, cause I'm the rap Stackhouse  Black Wall Street bitch, the hip-hop crackhouse, what?    [Chorus]    [The Game]  My flow opposite of handsome, it's ugly  Hip hop tantrum, sick, call the shit cancer  One man show cause I fucked all the dancers  Let the critics ask questions, my album be the answer  These niggaz let the rumors sit in they head like tumors  So I had to take 'em back, to toothbrush on the Pumas  Clean... mean... rappin machine  Red rag hangin low in the back of my jeans  I black out like February, back out what's necessary  Oh-seven Bugatti with Jimmy Iovine's secretary  I'm runnin the buildin, don't make me run in the buildin  No this ain't the first time I had my gun in the buildin  Walkin past offices I see my son in the buildin  Last album on the wall I'm number one in the buildin  They should build me an office up under the buildin  My elevator goin down, I am done in the buildin nigga    [Chorus]    [Swizz Beatz]  We in the motherfuckin buildin man  You ain't got your motherfuckin mind right?  You gon' get your mind blown out your motherfuckin mind right nigga  It is what the fuck it is man  How y'all wanna cut the cake?  You touch this you get your hands cut off, nigga  Swizz Beatz the motherfuckin monster  Game is in the motherfuckin buildin  We could turn this whole motherfuckin world red nigga  Bitch!