I sink in my teeth cause these niggas is sweet/Predator to the prey, you should pray for the weak/Spray out Caprices, drive by with the reaper/I hang out the window like I’m an AC/Bodies turn cold after losing your pulse/Turn that dude to a ghost like the homie SP
from Food for My Stomach lyrics by The Game
The Game and his cohorts embracing the jungle mentality, the one that seems to best embody the mainstream rap world. But it’s a social jungle and the biggest weapon is hype, which is noticeably absent from this wilting flower of a song. A big hindrance is the beat selection, watery at best.
