Game Time

*Lupe Fiasco's Food & Liquor*This article is part of the Food & Liquor era.Released: September 19, 2006
Label: 1st & 15th Entertainment / Atlantic RecordsCategory

## Song by Lupe Fiasco

### **Songwriter(s)**

Wasalu Jaco

"**Game Time**" is a song by American rapper Lupe Fiasco, leaked online in April 2006 as an unreleased cut from his debut studio album, *Lupe Fiasco's Food & Liquor* (2006).

## Lyrics

**Lyrics**
[Intro: Lupe Fiasco]

You under dig?

Yessir

You know what I'm talkin' about?

Yessir

You see what I'm sayin'?

Yessir

You know?

Yessir

And if you don't, that's too bad

Haha

Yeah, yeah, uh huh

[Verse 1: Lupe Fiasco]

As I gently pull up on the scene

I feel like ammunition for a sling shot

I'm trying to get triple sevens on my slot machine

And knuckle up with time like a ring watch

With no wings, hustle man, sitting in rubber band

A Dennis the Menace's weapon of choice with the windows of his soul

Dead intended on the tinted windows of a Rolls

Broken glass on the driver's seat of a Royce

Now how am I supposed to sit for Mister Wilson Drop a dime

Before another penny is spent on this game

Before I cough up the cost and invest another thought

I walk without my bucket of change

But I'm poor, materially speaking so

I can't be leaving this casino, with less than a c-note

Even if it takes a grand to get it I ride

Just to see that my Sedan has been vandalized

[Hook: Lupe Fiasco]

Game time, don't get caught up in the magic keep your brain right

'Cause things ain't what they seem like

It don't matter what they say just get the name right

Now that's L as in little, and U as opposite of me

And P as in Pistol and E as in... E

Now players say that boy walking like a man

Treat you like you fam' and talking like a G

[Verse 2: Lupe Fiasco]

Now this is art, taylor made

Sharp, wrists'll kill razor blades

I do my part, chill like barber of Seville

Homie, it's like I'm paid to fade

Turn around and pay my dues with the wages made

Then I tip like what a waitress paid

I'm a ghetto super star

Hand prints chillin' and my name written where the pavement lay

Turn around and place my shoes where the name engraved

Then my game is played, 'til I'm rain delayed

Now thats my zone, far from an actor homes

Like a star map, this a G talking like Sesame Street

Referee the beats that I'm rapping on

They trying to de-rail my train of thought

But I'm Bruce Willis, ya'll don't feel it

While you break yourself like a car jack

This is hard black, like where my palms at

[Hook: Lupe Fiasco]

Game time, don't get caught up in the magic keep your brain right

'Cause things ain't what they seem like

It don't matter what they say just get the name right

Now that's L as in little, and U as opposite of me

And P as in Pistol and E as in... E

Now players say that boy walking like a man

Treat you like you fam' and talking like a G

[Verse 3: Lupe Fiasco]

Now back to my scrap with time

My tat with the tickin', I make my fists

Wrap my wrist, leave the ring on, I could never get enough

Punch my clock

Clock my grip

N\*\*\*as tryin' to pull my card, stop my shift

Shift me to that graveyard and knock my hustle

They hope I Domino and free up my delivery

And at the same time mark my magnificence

I'm just trying to do the opposite of left

As long as there is the opposite of death

You test, and I might just bring the opposite of life

'Til there's no one the opposite of right

Check!

As you bop down writer's block and can't find it...

I address, I correct

You a dress, I'm a pair of pants

I'm a Motorola, you just a pair of cans

Couple Coca Colas and a string

Playa I'm 'bout my green like Martian's skin

A sinner on a side-walk

They wavin' to from the floats in a parade

The Saint's Go Marchin' In