Game – Heaven's Arms

[Intro]

[Hook: Game]

Part the Red Sea in red Louboutins who the don

Walk inside the club with all this Gucci on you've been warned

Packing heat like two LeBrons

And my crew is strong as Cali kush

It keep you (higher than heaven’s arms)

[Verse 1: Game]

Gucci in my closet pardon my head

Pardon my French but I’m on my Nas sh*t off with your head

Off with your b**ch she offered me head I offered her dick

Slid my black card at the reception now we off in the Ritz

I’m rolling this kush she coughing and sh*t

Freak b**ch named Jada love the LOX I got her talkin’ to Kiss

Got my hands behind my head now she all in the splits

Dick must be good ‘cause now she in Boston with bricks

Got a text on my iPhone she caught with my sh*t

Off with a ten she took it ‘cause she’s far from a snitch

Hold her mama and her daddy down got a sister at Georgetown

Paying her tuition so she ain’t gotta be strippin’

It’s money so I ain’t trippin’ this b******t get printed

Them banks get scoped out black cars get rented

My Gucci suit tailored my fade get tapered

You get sent to your maker f**kin’ around with my paper cuz I

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Game]

Hard bottom Ferragamos IQ too much for mediocre convo

I know a Farrakhan though three-story condo

IPod shuffling between Common Jay Electronica and Bono

Armado the last words of Paul Castellano

Nothin’ but endless paper and b**ches for niggas I know

Smokin’ Cheeba feeding divas McDonald’s

All the way in Milano ashin’ out Cohibas

F**kin’ in that blue Aventador the nose like Gonzo

Let a b**ch get a breather then she back hittin’ high notes

Throwin’ Louis luggage at dealerships f**k a car note

15’s in everything beating like Harpo

Rolling purple like Harpo b**ches by the car load

They wana see Prince I’m pulling strings like Carlos

Santana now we in Magic Atlanta

Wipin’ Ciroc off my Loubi’s with my Gucci bandana cuz I

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Game]

Kanye with Kim now I’m happy for that ni**a

Disrespect him or his wifey I'll slap you for that ni**a

Grew up listenin’ to Pac now I’m rappin’ for that ni**a

My brother been dead 20 years I’m trappin’ for that ni**a

God Flow like Pusha n‘em rose Phantom pushin’ ‘em

Splittin’ Louisville Sluggers open puttin’ kush in ‘em

Ain’t forgot about the Twin Towers I blame Bush for them

Obama can’t speak on it ‘cause the government’s shushin’ him

But that’s my ni**a though still stackin’ figures

So one day I’m top 5 and I can politic with Jigga though

I was just trying to Blueprint myself behind Jigga though

And all them old disses yo b******t Thibodeau

He be where the Summer be I be where the Winter go

Tomahawk the Bugatti Florida State Seminole

I’m out here tryna win a penant though

Never thought I’d be legendary but f**k it I’m in it so