D**e Boys - The Game/Travis Barker

Written by：L. Edwards

Yeah can't stop can't stop yeah

What's up what's up

What's up what's up

Yeah

Yeah comin' fresh out that pyrex pot

Black Air Force 2's and the white sox

Fitted on my forehead try me go head

I'll bring out the polka dots put Guame on your forehead

Yeah it's the new king of everything

And b**ches don't say no to me I'm like a wedding ring

Maybe it's how I pour that patron

Maybe it's how I smell a pair of Silver Cologne

Maybe it's how I write sh*t when I'm in the zone

And I'm sick of blow jobs b**ch leave me alone

And tell Dr Dre to pick up a phone

Before I climb through his window like ni**a I'm home

Runnin' the rock like OJ ni**a it's a throwback

F**k a Aston Martin show me where the stove at

Get a jar some baking soda ni**a hold that

The world is my grandma's kitchen time to cook crack

The d**e boys in the building

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys in the building

Yeah what's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys in the building

Yeah what's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys in the building

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys

Yeah the d**e boys in the building

You couldn't smell that crack

Comin' out that motherf**king porsche truck

I stop traffic with them rims that I'm sittin' on

Them ain't high beams b**ch my wrist is on

The same sh*t that ludacris is on

Disturbing the peace if my stash missing stones

Yeah count that work like a paycheck

Niggas couldn't play the game in a tape-deck

A boss never touch work if it ain't taped yet

That's how you get f**ked I practice safe sex

And I take you boy curtis b**ch with my tongue

Lick lick lick like shawna and have her sprung

Show her my inner-condom and have her sprung

And put it all in her stomach and just uh

What's up the d**e boys in the building

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys in the building

Yeah what's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys in the building

New york what's up

The d**e boys

La what's up

The d**e boys

Chi-town what's up

The d**e boys in the building

Detroit what's up

Atl what's up

The d**e boys

Mia what's up

The d**e boys in the building

Yeah what's up

So roll that coke white carpet to the hood

It's the d**e boys reunion the dress code's strictly

White tee air force 1's and some dickies

I'm from the city where the skinny niggas die

Only birds and nextels chirp in the sky

And we ride for the letters on our fitted cap

Niggas hit the stash get a strap and go get it back

That's for the gangstas the hustlas the ballas

From downtown la to uptown harlem

And d-boy money ain't rain and it's stormin'

So stop the music when the champagne pouring

And hold them glasses high yeah

And when a ni**a ask you why you tell 'em

The d**e boys in the building

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys

What's up the d**e boys in the building

Yeah what's up the d**e boys

I'm back the d**e boys

I'm back the d**e boys in the building

Yeah what's up the d**e boys

Ni**a what's up the d**e boys

Motherf**ker what's up

The d**e boys in the building

Tell 'em I'm back the d**e boys

Cause I'm back the d**e boys

It's a wrap the d**e boys in the building

The d**e boys

The d**e boys

The d**e boys in the building

The d**e boys

The d**e boys

Yeah what's up what's up

Hahaha yeah the king is back