The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005) by The Game (보컬) on maniadb.com

( Verse One )
I'm too gangsta for the streets, watch me when I creep
I put five in ya, jeep - leave a nigga sleep
Now you six feet deep over bullshit
Got a Mac 10 mouth ain't never pull shit
The ghetto dont make G's and mo niggaz
Get down or lay down, like Bennie Mack told niggaz
Or meet the fo fo, nigga - I let the guns blow nigga
I'm a rider - thug live til I die
Black Wall Street behind us - I'm a menace to society
F**k Cane And O dogg, I got the cane and the o's, dawg
I'm gangsta like Hennesy and Alizay, thug passion
Ride or die til they kill me and put me in thugs mansion
Gang bangin, this California life-style got me heated
They want me burried so I don't leave with out the Desert Eagle
Shoot first, ask questions on way to county jail
Kill a nigga over my chain, 'cause I know I'ma make bail
I'm troublesome

( Verse Two )
If I die tonight - bury me a G, amongsts rap legends
'Cause I spit bullets and rhymes, sixteens and nines
I keep a vest and a weapon, my baby momma got me stressin
Prayin on my knees every night, askin God is there a heaven
So here is my confession to my unborn child
If five shots couldn't drop me but I ain't take 'em and smile
I lost a lot of my niggaz to gang bangin and ditches
One finger on the trigger, dawg, I live the life of a sinner
These motherf**kers wanna see me doing life in the pen
I'm a outlaw and the westcoast is ridin again
My competition is none, I'm on the mission with guns
Starring death in the eyes, 20 niggaz deep, when we ride
My enemies is bitches - they plottin on my riches
Can't walk in the street with out paparazzi taking pictures
Label me a made nigga, all the way from Compton to Boston
These niggaz keep talkin, I leave 'em dead in the coffin
I'm troublesome

( Verse Three )
Money over bitches is my motto, in the street I'n known for catchin hollo's
Packing pistols and drinking belvy and Grey Goose out the bottle
No role models, only killas and fiends
Withness my niggaz strapped with gats, and army fatigues
If it's murder, he wrote it, if I'm lying
let the devil excel quoted and know that I'm strictly a rap poet
Babtized in my own tears, chastized by my own peers
I'm a product of my childhood years
My mother told me I'm hopeless, my pops wasn't around
One of the reasons why I'm clutchin a pound
California dreaming, chronic smoke out the beamer
One hand on the nina,scheeming got these hoochie bitches screaming
They know that I'm a celeberty - keep the cop-killers in the clip
And watch my back is what my niggaz keep telling me
Twenty-one years old, no felonies so I ride with the Desert
and pay homage to the hardest rap legends
I'm troublesome

(Verse 1)
Yeah though I walk through the valley of death
Vest on, Teflon none approached in my Hurricane sweats
Black chrome my shoulder, big wheel ‘till it's over
He never got to see me put black chrome on the Rova
Reading your obituary wishing we never met
So I wouldn't have to shed tears or wake up in cold sweats
Lookin' at this bottle of Hennessy wishing you never left
Wishing I chased your Monte Carlo down and gave you my vest
Or better yet I wish they never let you out
And I never got that phone call tellin' me that you out
Wish you never signed the release form
I wouldn't have had to clear this sample
Or use this track to say rest in peace for him
You wanted to know if Dre and Em felt you?
They did, before I could tell you somebody killed you
I feel pain for everybody that ever knew the real you
Call Nas tell him that I got an Ill Will too

(Chorus)

(Verse 2)
Niggas politickin' wanna know why I'm rhymin' different
My best friend got murdered, nigga my mind is different
If you ain't never spent no time in prison
You can't understand these bars or the lines I'm spittin'
Niggas rilin' me up let's go find a victim
I can't do it homie that's the reason Shyne in prison
And through divine intervention ten plus years doing crime in the trenches
Multiply by the time we spent in the kitchen
It's a life worth of hard livin', Cuban cigar tippin'
Twelve grade ditchin', purple serve by the jar sippin'
If you lost a homie you know friendship is God given
I've done seen the church so much you'd think I was born Christian
I've done seen more dead bodies than a mortician
Seen niggas in and out of county blues like they was born crippin'
So I'ma keep on livin' cause when I'm gone niggas ain't gonna do shit
But fuck my bitch and poor liquor

(Chorus)

(Verse 3)
What if you was me
And you had to sit through an entire funeral
While the Pastor readin' your homeboy's eulogy
I'm already dead
What the fuck you gonna do to me?
Keep talking shit I'll empty my clip in that G-Unit tee
Gimme a minute to say my grace with God
I'll see your face in the mirror I came a long way to talk
And tell you your Moms is missing you
Your Pops is missing you
Just saw your baby pictures in your Grandmother's living room
Face is missing you homie
Wink is missing you
Thank God you left us memories and songs to listen to
??? is missing you
The hood is missing you
Let my son graduate high school
And I'm gonna come visit you
The world is missing you
Eminem was feeling you
Dre said he felt your vibe the little time we spent with you
Pour the Henny out cuz he ain't here in the physical
They say real men don't cry but nigga I'm missing you

(Chorus)