Crosscountry Connection

[Intro: Stack Bundles] Yeah Stack Bundles, Desert Storm I got westside connections too, nigga Yeah I got my nigga Game We Sqaddddd Up From New York to L.A., nigga Yeah [Verse 1: Stack Bundles] It's [?] [?] [?] smack man back in the flesh (I'm back) Lowkey in the hood pushin' that piff in a burgundy S.S I'm grubbin' and it ain't hard to tell Do the math, I spend two-thousand on paraphernal So those slippers mean and I don't mean sixteens that hop in a sixteen olive green If that was over your head here's a steppin' stool It's the early grad that learn to push wet in school See me in 'em, I ain't gotta say I'm street Been more dirt than Kesahwn cleats and I'm still in 'em It's the gangsta that's all so cute Wit a fofo long and a [?] [?] suit It's nothin' for mе to send cars Nigga my phone clickin', my youngin' down to catch a body for the sim card And ya'll niggas just runnin' ya jibs Wе them click clack, get snatch cabbage patch kids, nigga [The Game Talking] Geah Stack Bundles, nigga Chuck Taylor Your neighborhood gang banger Fresh off JFK L.A.'s king Cut a cheque or suck a dick Clue how you put me behind this nigga? That nigga flow is gangsta, hard body Yeah [Verse 2: The Game] Niggas pray and pray on my downfall, see me rollin' with Clue, wanna send shots through his Range door But I'ma always be L.A.'s king Like Gretzky wit a pump the size of Joe Pesci A year ago I was makin' moves The closet I ever been to NY was Krush Groove Now I walk through Manhattan Pants saggin', engrave my all stars in the pavement This ain't a diss, it's a statement Nigga wit a attitude like Nas buyin' jewelry from Jacob I keep guns in the studio Dre don't know about the cop killers and the calico Or the P89 I hid in the booth, run inside this bitch if you think you bulletproof Leave a bitch nigga by his Jacob Aftermath, hit makers from Compton to Jamaica, yeah [Joe Budden Talking] Blat! Ok! Jump off! Uh Ohh, Desert Storm It's, it's, it's that on top music Two O one (Uh-uh-uh, ohhh) Nine, seven, three, nine, O eight Still on that New Jeru bullshit You know (Top) Let me talk to the people, man Ok [Verse 3: Joe Budden] Gangstas do real things because gangstas have ta, I should have a real gangsta wack ya (Uh) Bang and clap ya punk, aim at cha, he should be in the G-Unit vid with all the gangsta actors Man should slap ya, hey gangsta rapper, I flame it faster, that on top gang you bastard I'm in slippers and a robe Cellphone flip and scroll like get him off the globe So rude to them, batty boys don't know what I do to them With a west side connect like Cube and them He'll feel this aluminum and start pissin' through a tube like mmmmm But the lyin' stops when them sirens pop and them boys'll start to make the strip piping hot You either hiring cops or you be likin' your cot Or you be forced to leave Jersey like you Bryan Scott Nigga [Outro: Joe Budden] Fuck outta here, man Tah You no longer lowed here Stack! Game! Uh, uh, it's that, uh, geah! Clue! What I tell you, man? Don't call me at fuckin' four in the mornin' think I'm comin' over here to play games Cause I got a bitch watin' at the crib soon as I get back, man That's how we do that Rap shit come first tho the bitches can wait, she'll be in the bed Fuck I tell you, man, I'm that dude That boy out there actin' a fool that's him, Joey Tah