The Game - Pop That (Freestyle) Lyrics

Pop That (Freestyle) Lyrics by The Game

[Intro]
Hey Walle, get on the phone man, call that nigga Meek Mill
Tell that nigga Meek Mill get on the phone call that nigga Boss
Tell Boss get on the phone, call that nigga French Montana man
Tell this nigga let me hold this beat too man, lego

Pop that, don’t stop, pop that don’t stop
Pop that, don’t stop, pop that don’t stop
Pop that, don’t stop, pop that don’t stop
Pop that, don’t stop, pop that don’t stop

Uncle Luke, you better that hoe,
I’m the shit bitch and I know you smell that hoe
Beat the pussy I swoll that hoe
Lick the cat and it ain’t … hoe
Cops be easy never wear that dope
You from the Kim Cain nigga share that hoe
Reall nigga everywhere I go
You got one, you better mad that hoe
She got a fat monkey, a camel toe
She a meenie and she call me daddyo
She like it from the back, no paddy oh
I’m from the …to her daddy know
I’m fresh as fuck, no flat top
I got sit flops in that black drop
I got green things in my backpack
I’m thugging, welcome back Pac
I’m a mac nigga, no laptop
My bitch ass fat and no ass shots
She get motivated when that cans drop
Don’t call my bitch no stripper nigga
She’s an exotic dancer to twerk when you tip her, nigga
Amber Rose ain’t got nothing on my life
Made in good, ain’t got nothing on china
And I ain’t no tiger, I ain’t no tiger
Made in good, ain’t got nothing on china
Shit Japan ain’t got nothing on china
Wish that was me, nothing on china
Damn, there I go again
I ain’t tryna start nothing by speaking nothing on china
Don’t stop, popping that, she pick it up and she dropping it
I like red bones a little chocolate
And I’m asap with that rocket list
And I’m swagging and splashing and fucking these hoes
I’m blowing that kush and it’s stucked in my clothes
They blowing my dick for that nothing they knows
These niggas they know they can’t fuck with the flow
My mind be as cold, my bitches are hot
We walk in the club, she sneak in the Glock
We turning it up, off of peach and Sirock
With bottles and bottles
Like when does it stop?
With models and models they known to be fucking
She say she a virgin I know that she bluffing
I’m not gonna stuff…
I turn on the oven and whoaaa!!!

Coke boy I like home boy
I got a gold impala like gold boy
Twerking it, working it
Like waffle house I’m serving it
They play with it, I’m murking shit
… you square niggas with your circle head
And you don’t stop, what you twerking with
And you don’t stop, what you twerking with
And you don’t stop, what you twerking with
And you don’t stop, what you twerking with

Pop that, don’t stop, pop that don’t stop
Pop that, don’t stop, pop that don’t stop
Pop that, don’t stop, pop that don’t stop
Pop that, don’t stop, pop that don’t stop.