Daytona 500 (500 Bars) Lyrics

Game, The

Non-album songs

Lyrics to Daytona 500 (500 Bars)
Daytona 500 (500 Bars) Video:
Hov invented swag, I'll give him that
But who invented slime about the niggas in the fitted caps?
Reppin cincinatti, they ain't ever been there
I'm working the track out, no under armour chinwear
Fuck bad bitches, check my list, see kim there
Stacey dash, I'll smash and pass
Nut on her face like skin care
Can't get rid of me, the game gon' be here
Like teachers with they tenure
No pen here, straight off the dome
I throw a shot, blacka, knock him straight off his throne
That goes for every nigga, the nigga with the lockjaw
And that heavy nigga, I ain't talking about ross
He the motherfucking boss, I'm the ceo
Niggas using their skymiles just to see me flow
I've got the illmatic cd flow, fake diamonds
Fake kaballah beads, niggas seen me flow
Getting tired of these niggas, feds put wires on these niggas
I got some richard pryors for these niggas
Couple court cases, couple shell cases
Trickling off the ground right next to where the ace is
I can't take this shit that I'm seeing in the industry
I'd rather be everybody's enemy in the back of the strip club
Guzzling some hennessey; I really made it rain with meech
I got memories
Fuck with em here, blow out your memory
Take the route 4 for the chevy, we rock kennedy
Like a bottle of patron, one nigga can't finish me
Whoop a nigga's ass, he'll tell the cops there was 10 of me
Ice on my neck, I ain't ever had an injury
Ice on my wrists, I ain't ever had an injury
Meanwhile niggas see me with the doctor
Platinum plates on a phantom nigga, welcome to the opera!
Welcome to mi casa, shrimp scampi and lobster
Big bowl of og kush, watching [?]
Nigga take a hit of that, california kush, five
You ain't gotta send it back
Quarterback, nigga I gotta send it back
Get charlie sheen on the phone, tell him to win it back
The summer over nigga, tell them that the winter back
Take that boy crying, bitch nigga, come get it back
Snapback? fuck that! authentic fitted cap
Nigga talk shit, then it's off with his fitted cap
Off with his fitted cap
Let these niggas know that the boss of the city back
I need a 7 5/8 philly hat
Rozay, where that nigga meek milly at?
Where beans, where chris, where gilly at?
Can't stop bloodin', I'm a fucking hemophiliac
1st nigga on the set with a red rag
Then the industry took my whole swag
Pound sign, dag, and all of you niggas is fucking fags
I dare you come play up on the boy, got
20 niggas with me, can't one of them spell "hors d'oeuvres"
Pearl handle, but I don't eat oysters
Catch em in the hood, 24's on that porsche
An omen, had to divorce her. she ain't wanna get in the truck
I had to force her
Heard she wasn't giving it up, you had to force her
Buy homegirls some bottles to intercourse her
Where they do that at? where my bloods at?
Where my soo woo rag? where my lil nigga
From where they do voodoo at?
4 albums, all number ones, go and google that
So I'm banned like the number ones
How you try to make it rain with 100 ones
Nigga, I'm able to the game, no cummerbund
Everyday I'm in the range with another gun
I snipe ya... no wesley
I'm the king, motherfuck elvis presley
I'm the king and I be smoking, dare a nigga come and test me
Put two 9's in your back, wayne gretzky
Yo, I'm ahead, they can't catch me
5'10" and over, nigga, arrest me
I be out tomorrow, my lawyer'd beat that
Now nigga, go and tweet that
I just did, nigga, re-tweet that
And tell floyd I've been workin' on the speed bag
He don't fight pacquiao, then I'm up next
Cut his eyes like [?] cut checks
I'm a millionaire, nigga, fuck stress
Put me on basketball wives, it'd be a fuckfest
Shoutout to funk flex, shoutout to dj clue
Shoutout to dj ski, shoutout to dj pooh
He gon' cry when he get in the car
Like I cried blood tears when I was gettin' the star
Like I told vita guerra she wasn't gettin' that far
Got some head, then I kicked that bitch up out of the car
But look at the bright side, it was the slr
And you've been kicked out worse, don't act like I was the first
Then came amber, alert
You ain't supposed to talk about it, nigga, wipe where she squirt
Like a soda can, I can murder this beat if yeezy and hova can
So here we go again
Pounds of the kush, and couple of my oldest friends
Last week, I was in my uncle otis' benz
Back it up into the throne, it's totaled then
Only had a full week, it ain't broken in
I'll prolly never be king, it's kinda soakin' in
Heard I'd never go big, from the po' end
He had a complex, all I got is concepts
Classics, legendary straight up out the projects
San diego aztec, number one prospect
Aston martin, that's a foreign object
Phantoms, 'rraris, wasn't 25 yet
Lambos, mazdis, wasn't sayin' 5 yet
17, million, my son wasn't 5 yet
Disrespect the whole rap game and ain't die yet
Hov, let's make a side bet
I'm a j. cole fan, can a nigga drop next?
(Damn, I mean he got a good thing)
Call pay per view can me and 50 box yet?
Dr. dre can I hear detox yet?
Yeah, I got some singles on that bitch
Where that ho malaya at, got some singles for that bitch
Turn on the radio, got some singles on that bitch
Prada gold me? me and kris kringle on that bitch
Goin' ham in the club, you should see me in this bitch
Space bottle tall as bobby valentino in this bitch
How it turn into a casino in this bitch
Tell 'em it's g-money I'm with nino in this bitch
On my toes like a ballerina in this bitch
No prodigy at summer jam screamin in this bitch
Child prodigy, bobby fischer leanin' in this bitch
All the poor ass niggas ain't wanna see me gettin' rich
Too late for that though, I got cash flow
Young fidel castro, actin' like an asshole
And I don't know better
I ain't know if this a louis vuitton or polo sweater
To me the y-cell logo better
Watch a knock-off cause these hoes know better
If I make a documentary, I'll be rich forever
Like my nickname dick, I'll be rich forever
Pause... now applaud, and let these real hip-hop fans count my bars
Let these real hip-hop haters count my cars
Back to swishers, fuck a cuban cigar
Unless it's handed to me by a cuban
All these haters on my dirt so I might as well smoke it with mark cuban
Old nigga new york knees, ewing
Kyrie irving give a fuck about a 2 inch
Got these bitches giving me brains, stupid
Finally got the otis instrumental, had to loop it
New school rapper shot by cupid, stupid
Everybody sayin' they sick, I got lupus
And I'm still on the block, like the new kids
I got a few kids, I got a few cribs
I got a new kid so I bought a new crib
2.5 stupid, not a new crib
50 helped a nigga out, but the truth is
All this shit from one freestyle on whoo kid
If I ain't the king, then nigga tell me who is
If I ain't won the west the last 9 years, who did?
I'll wait, while I'm starin' at my hublot
In my blackberry looking for pictures that do blow
Used to push weight, like a sumo
Give it to my bitch, better stuff it in the culot
Take it to the visitor room, give it to bruno
These niggas take a bag and slide to a new box of uno?
But that's too much inf, for the you know
Where I'm from a rat'll never give orders to you know
I heard your lil' album, kudos
They say the shit a classic, nigga, I got a few of those
A few hoes, new clothes, like I'm jason derulo
So niggas step to the side like a euro
And if a nigga get too close
Boom fill slugga? to the dome, pujols
Niggas don't like game, they a bunch of puntos
I'm sippin' mojitos with ms. puerto rico
Julie? floor seats, durant shootin' free throws
Back to the spot, left eye in the peep hole
A1 perico? stay about my stash
I'm just a middle man, niggas fuckin' up my cash
Police pulled me over, now they fuckin' with my dash
2 blocks to go, throw that shit up in the trash
2 glocks to blow, put a bullet in your ass
Like plaxico, got you jettin' up the ave
I swear to god man, these niggas make me laugh
'Pposed to be my future, you ain't fuckin' with my past
I shoot first, ask questions last
Kobe mind state, why the fuck would I pass
Boost crime rate, then make twitter crash
All in one day with my controversial ass
My grandmother smh my mama like damn
The hoes loling and my niggas goin' ham
Run your lips, like gina, shake your thick, like pam
This a bloodsport, jean claude van damme
180 bars, man damn
Love farrakhan but I'm 'bout to go ham
You hear what I just said? nigga damn
I love the beat, but I'm 'bout to go ham
Yeah, hard as a mother fucker
Open my garage, see cars like a mother fucker
Walk up in the club, see broads like a mother fucker
50's pulling titties out of bras like a mother fucker
Ace of spades, black car like a mother fucker
You niggas broke, rush card like a mother fucker
Outside the club plush cars like a mother fucker
And we ain't rent shit, these ours like a mother fucker
But fuck with my niggas, see stars like a mother fucker
Snoop busta and nas they my mother fuckers
2v2's and ar like a mother fucker
Kid red rap star like a mother fucker
Goin' bout this otis beat, hard like a mother fucker
Drums? weak as fuck read minds? like a mother fucker
Give drummer some? bitch get on your knees and give a plumber some
I'm leakin
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