The Game – Cold Blood lyrics

[Verse 1: The Game & *Busta Rhymes*]
I was gonna buy a convertible, thought about JFK getting
*Shot down in cold blood*
So I ain't cop that shit, cause I ain't wanna be riding through the hood and get
*Shot down in cold blood*
Riding through Compton in the Aston thinking bout my nigga 4cent getting
*Shot down in cold blood*
What if that was me? Nigga probably bet a G I wouldn't be live to see 30 i'd get
*Shot down in cold blood*
Nigga getting money, hating niggas tryina' flex, wanna do you like Malcolm X
*Shot down in cold blood*
Do you like Martin Luther King, in Memphis were he got
*Shot down in cold blood*
And N.Y.P.D. Y'all can go to hell for killing that boy Sean Bell
*Shot down in cold blood*
Killing that nigga Pac, killing that boy B.I., two of the greatest rappers just
*Shot down in cold blood*
Could have been me, could have been that nigga Fifty, don't beef with the 60 you get
*Shot down in cold blood*
Ask the nigga Nipsey, know he got some dead homies, and I got some dead homies that got
*Shot down in cold blood*
[Chorus: The Game & *Busta Rhymes*]
So you got a red a rag, watch where you hang it fake ass gang bangers get
*Shot down in cold blood*
Heard you got a blue rag, watch where you put it the wrong pocket catch a bullet
*Shot down in cold blood*

[Verse 2: Dre & Busta Rhymes]
The news never talk about the killers in the hood, I guess they don't give a fuck if you get
*Shot down in cold blood*
Last night a stray bullet hit a niggy in his head, on the way to feed his kids he was
*Shot down in cold blood*
"This business is never personal", that is what a nigga said, for the right fucking price you get
*Shot down in cold blood*
Sniff a whole bag of angel dust, walked upon that teacher pull a pistol out "Blam!" she got
*Shot down in cold blood*
Niggas out in Northern California bout to burn the city down for Oscar Grant, he got
*Shot down in cold blood*
Real shit, they try to tear you down when you alive, and call you legendary once you get
*Shot down in cold blood*
I bet my niggas ride on everything, everybody getting it, included kids
*Shot down in cold blood*
Yellow tape at the wake, lord forget my evil ways damn, preacher found slain, he was
*Shot down in cold blood*

[Chorus: The Game & *Busta Rhymes*]
So you got a red a rag, watch where you hang it fake ass gang bangers get
*Shot down in cold blood*
Heard you got a blue rag, watch where you put it the wrong pocket catch a bullet
*Shot down in cold blood*