Lyrics Cats and dogs The Game

Cats and dogs

Verse 1

Uhuh, I need a gangster bitch

N*gga I ain't lyin, Im talkin when I fuck

She scream you need silence

No domestic violence (violence)

Just domestic diamonds

So lemme ice you out

So when you slidin down the pole

Doin your Magic City thing

Yo neck and wrist glow

Im dreamin, she ain't a stripper, she a classy girl

Goin off that Patron, she my nasty girl

First name, Rachael, last name Jones

You related to Nas, girls, Queens my second home

You know.... we can tear it up

Weekend in Cannes, then we comin to America

...She love that Gucci, never been to ATL

But she love that Gucci

Brrr! She taught me how to cook cage

And I taught her how to cook crack

And I chopped it on her back

Now tell me where they do that

Verse 2

I put her on a Greyham

She know she better stay down

Ride and die like my Bentley

Man this bitch will never break down

She my bustin baby, you should see her bust a tre pound

Love Roc-A-Fella so much, she won't even call me Jay now

She roll my weedman, like she my wingman

Then we get high, play Tiger Woods on that weed damn

Love is for a season, haters 365

And the game Cats and Dogs, keep your bitch by your side

Got a hardtop Lambo, when the rain start to pour

Not the rain outside, talkin the rain indoors

Her girlfriend told her, that I was creepin with a stripper

Told her I was courtside, watchin the wack ass Clippers

Bitch please! Im a Laker fan and Kobe thats my n*gga

Keep my grass cut so I can see when the snake slith her

Shit, came out of no where like Khloe and Lamar

Kinda got a n*gga thinkin maybe Im..

Verse 3

I let her drive the Range on our first date

She the first one to put me on that Drake mixtape

"I just wanna be successful baby"

Take you out the Hudson jeans and redress you baby

We can walk down Rodaeo, turn around, you on Melrose

Fly to New York in the winter and try on some Timbos

Or we can hit South Beach, fuck with Ross and Timbo

The world is cherry pond, and we can slice it up like Kimbo

You cook the rock, I break it down

I wrap it up, you weigh them pounds

I make the car, you start the car

We can drive it out of town

Im your nigga right? And you my bitch (Yea..)

Even if they lock me up, she gon get them brakes there

And when we get tired, we hit the truck stop and sit there

And zip my 501's and she gon put her lips there

The memoirs of a perfect bitch

You gotta hold them down even if its..