The Game

Heaven's Arms Lyrics

Heaven's Arms video

The Game
Overview
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Composers:
  • Taylor
  • Jayceon / Valenzano
  • Marcello / Benton
  • Stanley / Lyon
  • Andre
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Wrong lyrics?

The Game - Heaven's Arms lyrics

Part the red sea and red Louis Vuittons
Who the don? Walk inside the club with all his 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

Gucci in my closet, pardon my head
Pardon my French, but I’m on my Nas shit
Off with your head, off with your bitch
She offered me head, I offered her dick
? black caught a reception, Now we off in the Ritz
I’m rolling this kush, she coughing and shit
Freak bitch named Jada love them LOX, I got her talkin’ to Kiss
Got my hands behind my head, Now she all in the splits
Dick must be good, ‘cus now she in Boston with bricks
Got a text on my iPhone, she caught with my shit
Off with a ten, she took it ‘cus she’s far from a snitch
Hold her mama and daddy down, got a sister in Georgetown
Paying her tuition so she ain’t gotta be strippin’
It’s money so I ain’t trippin’, this bullshit get printed
Them banks get scoped out, black cars get rented
My Gucci suit tailor, my fade get tapered
You get sent to your maker, fuckin’ around with my paper

Part the red sea and red Louis Vuittons
Who the don? Walk inside the club with all his 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

Hard bottom Ferragamos, IQ too much for mediocre convo
I know a Farrakhan, oh three-story condo
IPod Shuffle in between Common, Jay Electronica (Elpadaro?)
Armado, and last words of Paul Castellano
Nothin’ but illest paper and bitches niggas I know
Smokin’ Cheeba, feeding divas McDonald’s
All the way in Milano, ashin’ out Cohibas The Game - Heaven's Arms - http://motolyrics.com/the-game/heavens-arms-lyrics.html
Fuckin’ in that blue?, the nose like?
Let a bitch get a breather, then she back hittin’ high notes
Throwin’ Louis luggage at dealerships, fuck a car note
15’s in everything, beating like Harpo
Rolling purple like Harpo, bitches by the car low
They wana see Prince, I’m pulling strings like Carlos, Santana
Now we in Magic (city), Atlanta
Wipin’ Ciroq off my Loubi’s with my Gucci bandana

Part the red sea and red Louis Vuittons
Who the don? Walk inside the club with all his 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

Kanye with Kim now, I’m happy for that nigga
Disrespect him or his wife, ? I slap you for that nigga
Grew up listenin’ to Pac, now I’m rappin’ for that nigga
My brother been dead 20 years, now I’m trappin’ for that nigga
God Flow like Pusha and ‘em, rose Phantom pushin’ ‘em
Splittin’ Louisville Sluggers over and puttin’ kush in ‘em
Ain’t forgot about the Twin Towers, I blame Bush for them
Obama can’t speak on it ‘cus the government’s shushin’ him
But that’s my nigga 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 all dishes, yo, bullshit, thibodeaux
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 fuck it I’m in it so

Part the red sea and red Louis Vuittons
Who the don? Walk inside the club with all his 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

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