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The Game - Born 2 Rap Album Lyrics



The Game - Born 2 Rap Lyrics






Gold Daytonas

Gold Daytonas
(Hunnid spokes for my dogs and my locs', why?)
Ride with it on us
(You know we got it) yeah
Gold Daytonas (why are you mad? What happened?)
(The motherf*ckin' wheels) yeah
Ride with it on us (okay, so what happened?)

You ever seen a nigga get shot by the Staples Center?
Next day you watchin' 'Bron 'Bron with them staples in 'em (Lake Show)
Yeah, came for the ruckus
Head to toe, dipped in Supreme, I'm like a Cutlass
F*ck it, let loose on niggas
Spill my Goose on niggas, two tears in a bucket (want all the smoke)
Three-wheel motion in the Bentley truck
See 12 and hold the Remy up (f*ck 12)
Need at least a hunnid thousand 'fore we go in clubs ('fore we what?)
'Fore we pour them shots ('fore we what?) 'Fore we throw them dubs (ayy)
West Side to New York, niggas show me love (niggas know)
Front row at the Grammys and they know we thugs

Gold Daytonas
(Hunnid spokes for my dogs and my locs', why?) Yeah
Ride with it on us
Uh, what you know about it?
Gold Daytonas
(Hunnid spokes for my dogs and my locs', why?)
Ride with it on us
(Ride) yeah

Check my pocket, got a lot of hunnids
And all my ladies got flat stomachs, uh
At Saint Laurent when the shipment come in
Shrimp fettuccine then hop back in the Benz
Got AMG on the seat covers, they love us
Leimert Park to the Rucker, I'm with Chuck
Get pressed for your Chucks, matte black on the truck
Cuban link on tuck, Ace of Spades in my cup, uh
You wanna give me what I need, baby?
My seat on recline while she suck on mine, uh
Game told me, "Go 'head, switch the style up"
And if they hate, then let 'em hate, then they gon' end up down one

Gold Daytonas
(Hunnid spokes for my dogs and my locs', why?) Yeah
Ride with it on us
(Uh, you know we got it, nigga, ayy) yeah
Gold Daytonas
(Hunnid spokes for my dogs and my locs', ayy)
Ride with it on us
(Ride, ride, ride, ride, haha) aight
Ayy, Dom, West Side on these niggas
(F*ck bitches) ayy
(Haha, f*ck bitches)
Yeah, yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Dom Kennedy
Copyright: Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc.






West Side

Crip niggas, Blood niggas, ese's, Asians
Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, white boys, Jamaicans
Latin Kings, Disciples, Vice Lords, Haitians
All these motherf*ckers been patiently waitin'
Since the West coast fell off, the streets been watchin'
The West coast never fell off, I was asleep in Compton
Aftermath been here, the beats been knockin'
Nate Dogg doin' his thing, DPG still poppin'
I got California Love, f*ckin' bitches to that 'Pac shit
And Westside Connection, been had it locked bitch
I'm in the rearview, my guns is cockin'
I put red dots on that nigga head like Rodman
All Stars, fat laces, gun charge, court cases
Fought that, not guilty, I'm back, niggas hate me
Been there, done that, sold crack, got jacked
Got shot, came back, jumped on Dre's back
Payback, homey I'm bringin' C.A. back
And I don't do button up shirts or drive Maybachs
All you old record labels tryin' to advance
Aftermath bitch, take it like a muh'f*ckin' man

If you take a look in my eyes
You see I'll be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell 'em where you from, nigga Westside
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I'll be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell 'em where you from, nigga Westside

I'm lowridin' homey, six trey Impala
Gold D's spinnin', chrome hydraulics
Run up on my lo-lo, you stop breathin'
Hollow tips make niggas disappear like Houdini
Gang bangin' is real, homey I'm living proof
Like Snoop Dogg, C-walkin' on top of the devil's roof
Rap critics wanna converse, about this and that
Cause red strings in his Converse, and this a Dre track
Keep jibbin' and jabbin', I pull the .38 Magnum
And get to clickin' and clackin', your homies wanna know what happened
Come to Compton see Thriller like Mike Jackson
I might be, Spike Lee, of this gun clappin'
Prior to rappin', I was drug traffickin'
In the dope spot playin' John Madden
Homey I ain't braggin', I took five
You wanna die, run up on that black 745

If you take a look in my eyes
You see I'll be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell 'em where you from, nigga Westside
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I'll be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell 'em where you from, nigga Westside

New York, New York, big city of dreams
I got my L.A. Dodger fitted on, I'm doin' my thing
Got me f*ckin' with G-Unit, you know the drama that bring
I got niggas in Westside Compton and Southside Queens
And Buck told me in Cashville, I'm good when I come through
So I ain't gotta tuck in my chain like DJ Pooh
I'm gangsta - more like Deebo when he was Zeus
Play Bishop, I paint that picture, now who got the Juice?
You niggas is Nutso, I take off your roof
Leave yo' ass stretched out like a Cadillac coupe
God gotta let me in heaven, all the shit I've been through
I was a O.G. in the hood before I turned twenty-two
Homey I let the 38 special ripped through that vest
And I don't contemplate whether or not he left his shit on the dresser
Got Compton on my back, I'm startin' to feel the pressure
I'm lyrically Kool G. Rap on these Dre records

If you take a look in my eyes
You see I'll be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell 'em where you from, nigga Westside
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I'll be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell 'em where you from, nigga Westside
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CURTIS JAMES JACKSON, MICHAEL A. ELIZONDO, ANDRE ROMELL YOUNG, SCOTT SPENCER STORCH, JAYCEON TERRELL TAYLOR
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC






40 Ounce Love

This is us
Impalas parked next to Bentley trucks
4 Bent supposed to be here, I should dig 'em up
But since I can't, we gon' hold this Henny up
15 years of greatness
15 years of hatin'
15 years of patience, that's what I had to practice
So I ain't end up back on that county jail mattress
F*ck all this rap shit
In Compton we in the dirt, sticks on us like a cactus
Cincinnati on, closin' on the third strap
Gave two away to some fans, this my third hat
Runnin' this marathon, I'm on my third lap
Where my key to the city? Don't y'all think I deserve that?
LA sheriffs left Ryan on the curb, flat
37 shots, so I'm on 133rd strapped

40 ounce love
White Air Force Ones in the mud
Euro front end on the Cutlass like, "What's up?"
See my dead homie mama, hop out and give her a hug
40 ounce love
Niggas gon' ask, so choose one, Crip or Blood
Money fallin' out your pocket while you're sellin' drugs
Every drink of Olde English, grab a cup, I'll fill it up for you

You outta gas? I'll fill it up for you
You surrounded in the club? We pullin' up for you
You went to jail? I took that money, put it up for you
You still got your hand out like I ain't did enough for you
You put on that snitch jacket and it stuck to you
On my life, I love you but I can't f*ck with you
I gotta stick to the code
Never slip, never fold, stay rich 'til I'm old
Love my kids, on my soul
Both my baby mamas know if I go, open the safe and give 'em all the gold
And my cousin, Magic Cold, he in the pen' on his toes
How you talk them people into transferrin' you to a level 4?
He got 20 months left, that shit movin' hella slow
20 blunts, half a pound a day until they let him go
I give him 30 racks every time he touch the surface
I'm startin' to think this nigga goin' to jail on purpose

Either way, I gotta keep givin' you 40 ounce love
White Air Force Ones in the mud
Euro front end on the Cutlass like, "What's up?"
See my dead homie mama, hop out and give her a hug
40 ounce love
Niggas gon' ask, so choose one, Crip or Blood
Money fallin' out your pocket while you're sellin' drugs
Every drink of Olde English, grab a cup, I'll fill it up for you
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Just Liv
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Gucci Flip Flops

Hit with the RICO they repo that vehicle
Shit was all good just a week ago
About to start snitchin', ain't you?
Ready to start bitchin', ain't you?
I forgive you, I forgive you
Hustlin' just ain't you

If you listenin' to this now that mean Swizzy got it cleared for me
2018, what a f*cked-up year for me
Take it back to January, nigga lost his father
Only way I got through it was bumpin' Wayne's first Carter
With the speakers blarin', windows down on my McClaren
See the wheels and it's apparent, this why these f*ck niggas starin'
Had a premonition, parked and got out, Calabasas far
Triple X, Biggie, 'Pac, niggas kill rappers in cars
That was back in June, I missed out on a couple million
Gotta get back in tune, I wake up, work out, hit the studio right after noon
Still gotta pack a tool to pick my kids up after school
Don't me put me in no situation where one of us niggas have to lose
'Cause you'll be in a casket soon, closed tighter than Mac and Tune
Another classic with no Jigga verse, it'll happen soon
Go bar-for-bar with Jigga
Last wish of a young spitter even if the verse is killer

That is not how I die, I seen my death
Seen all you niggas' demise, folded hands on your chest
Always put my niggas first, they pray for my last breath
Thought I did niggas right, 'til niggas start goin' left
Gucci flip flops, ten toes down where I stood
Gucci flip flops, nigga, I done got it from the mud
Gucci flip flops, hoppin' over fences 'cause I could
In Gucci flip flops, never switchin' sides on the hood
Gucci flip flops

Still listenin'? I want y'all to picture this
Me and you tradin' lives, now tell me what the difference is?
More money, more problems
And more niggas who wan' kill you, more empty Patron bottles
And I don't condone violence but niggas on phones wildin'
Niggas on apps cappin', them choppers at full volume
I put money on nigga's books, got houses out foreclosure
One call, I'll open fire on niggas and force closure
I'm too O.G. For this shit
Built my career off the rock, Memph' Bleek in this bitch
Comin' of Age, even squashed my beef with Meek for this shit
Get off the phone, stop speakin' and shit
Soon as 12 close the door on you niggas, mouth leakin' and shit
Go to jail, cut a deal, can't do a week in that bitch
That's why I stay away, somewhere on a beach with a bitch
Watchin' Narcos, listenin' to The Weeknd and shit

And this is not how I die, I seen my death
Seen all you niggas' demise, folded hands on your chest
Always put my niggas first, they pray for my last breath
Thought I did niggas right, 'til niggas start goin' left
Gucci flip flops, ten toes down where I stood
Gucci flip flops, nigga, I done got it from the mud
Gucci flip flops, hoppin' over fences 'cause I could
In Gucci flip flops, never switchin' on the hood
Gucci flip flops
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © SC PUBLISHING DBA SECRETLY CANADIAN PUB., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Born 2 Rap

I remember I was rappin' for a year and half
Couple tears in a glass
Some gunshots then I appeared on the map, bust it
In the studio way in the back with Busta
Next mornin' back to weighin' the crack, f*ck it
What if Dre don't make an album out my demo?
At least me, Snoop, and Nate Dogg smoked some Endo
Mailman told me, "Be patient," thanks for the info
Next thing I know, I'm in Hits Factory with Timbo
Came back and threw the Range on Lorenzos
I'm reminiscin', lookin' out this Lamborghini window
My Granny told me I'd be bigger than Nintendo, Game
Let the top down so she could scream her grandson name
We on our way back to the nursin' home
Listenin' to Just Blaze beats to put these verses on
My life almost got cut short on the 'Math
'Til Jigga told Dre Hate it or Love it was a smash

I sit alone in my room in the zone writin' classics
Who rap better than me?
I sit alone in my room in the zone writin' classics
Who rap better than me?
I sit alone in my room in the zone writin' classics
Who do it better than me?
Who rap better than me?
Who rap better than me?

Shit sound like I found the fountain of youth
It's like the bald-head Game steppin' back in the booth, true
I'm the only nigga rap like I do, proof
Who survived after 300 Bars, who?
Nobody, I'm still countin' these bodies
Still countin' these millions
Still make everybody quiet when I walk in the lobby of that Interscope buildin'
I still drop one line and have 'em all in they feelings
I know you miss me but I just been in Calabasas
Bought the crib far just to stop from whoopin' nigga's asses
I'm the definition of classic
I'm the feelin' fans used to get when they rip the shit up out the plastic
How many legendary studios got my plaques in it?
New Lambo truck, let's see if I can start from scratch in it
And I started from the bottom of the block
Hate it or love it, the underdog still on top, nigga

I sit alone in my room in the zone writin' classics
Who rap better than me?
I sit alone in my room in the zone writin' classics
Who rap better than me?
I sit alone in the room in the zone writin' classics
Who do it better than me?
Who rap better than me?
Who rap better than me?

Game was always open arms
You know what I mean?
And, you know, he was the only one for a while
Yeah
From the generation after the Snoop, Dre, Pac
So Game was, he held the position of
Everybody looked to Game
For, for, you know, "Hey, listen to my Tape woo"
I actually met Game in my hood on Crenshaw and Slauson
And I was outside on the block with like twenty of my homies
And, um, I see the Range Rover, I'm like, "That's Game right there"
And we all walked up to his car and I handed my CD, you know?
And on my daughter, he had a Glock on his, on his hip
I mean on his lap
And that's what made me like, I ain't gon' say, "Made me respect Game"
I respect Game off all the things he done
But when we met, you know what I'm sayin'?
It was um, I was in the middle of my hood
You know, with all my homies before rap
And Game was drivin' through solo with a, with a Glock in his lap
You know so
No security, just solo?
Nah, nah, on the solo
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Welcome Home

Bongo By The Way

I wake up every morning on the same shit
I smoke my 'Wood to the roach like I ain't rich
Niggas I used to hang with, is still gang gang with
Lamborghini outside but, but nigga, that don't change shit
Same nigga that gave you classic after classic
Could still chop rock and zip it, plastic after plastic
Why you think Dr. Dre don't take me on them yachts with him?
Whisperin' to Snoop, "This nigga probably got a Glock with 'em," facts
Smoke comin' out the 'Rari hood
Nigga, I could f*ck Nicki if Safaree could
Motivation for all my niggas that's watchin'
All my niggas from Watts and South Central to Compton
I wish you could've been a fly on the wall in my dope spot
Leaning with a tuck in my drawers and I hope not
'Cause doin' 25 to life is a roadblock
Welcome to my last album, Nip, time to close shot

Twenty million dollars actin' broke, nigga (broke, nigga)
All you niggas 'sleep, stay woke, nigga (work, nigga)
All my niggas came and sold dope, nigga (dope, nigga)
Why the f*ck you think they call us dope niggas?
Broken home, broken dreams, no hope, nigga (no hope, nigga)
Why the f*ck you think we sellin' dope, niggas? (Dope, niggas)
This for my dawgs and my locs, nigga (locs, nigga)
Gotta get our neck up out these ropes, nigga (ropes, nigga)

Fire to the spoon put you on the moon
Make America Great Again, you a f*ckin' coon
And you niggas wonder why I'm unenthused
'Cause hard bottoms trump runnin' shoes
And the less you know, the longer you live
And the more you know, they tappin' your crib
My niggas say they got shot and actually did
Who never thought what happened to Pac would happen to Big
What happened to L, what happened to Proof and Jam Jay though
Hip-hop'll lean on you, R-I-P to Fredo
Young niggas stay woke, old niggas stay woke
It's rainin' hollow tips, I'm dripping in this Gucci raincoat
Security won't pat me, niggas won't at me
Same nigga that saved the West with a bald head and some khakis
Watchin' Kendrick show while Top Dawg dap me
This my last album, motherf*cker, I hope you happy

Twenty million dollars actin' broke, nigga (broke, nigga)
All you niggas 'sleep, stay woke, nigga (work, nigga)
All my niggas came and sold dope, nigga (dope, nigga)
Why the f*ck you think they call us dope niggas?
Broken home, broken dreams, no hope, nigga (no hope, nigga)
Why the f*ck you think we sellin' dope, niggas? (Dope, niggas)
This for my dawgs and my locs, nigga (locs, nigga)
Gotta get our neck up out these ropes, nigga (ropes, nigga)

This shit's over
Say this your last shit, I don't believe you, Chuck
I'm in the LAX, nigga
Bring that beat back from me though, I gotta say somethin'

Yeah
Chuck, what up?

I was like, 'F*ck rap music', I was gon' rob me a bank
Starving artists ain't my style, that shit'd drive me insane
Gave my mind to these millions and my heart to the game
Probably die up in these streets but I survive through my name
Every nigga 'round me killers and I doubt it'd change
If the police get our Hondas, we go out with a bang
Early 2000s, Murder Inc was a shack
We was sailing bullets, got no knives
Nigga we was charismatic on these corners like 2Pac on stage
But, f*ck a dream if it's not gon' pay
You feel me?
White socks, hat with my Glock on waist
Couldn't tell me I was not O'Shea
Posted at the Quick N Split, don't get caught on tape
'Cause they put them cameras up since they shot Quincy
Chuck, I remember your white Range
Slauson Ave, ran up on you, gave you my mixtape
Now

Twenty million dollars actin' broke, nigga
All you niggas 'sleep, stay woke, nigga
All my niggas came up sellin' dope, nigga
Why the f*ck you think they call us dope, nigga?
Broken home, broken dreams, no hope, nigga
Why the f*ck you think we sellin' dope, nigga?
This for my dawgs and my locs, nigga
Gotta get our neck up out these ropes, nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Cash Mcelroy Jones, Ermias Joseph Asghedom, Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Lamont Dozier, Stanley Benton, Uforo Imeh Ebong
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Help Me (Interlude)

Say it ain't so
Oh, no
Say it ain't so

I've been hustling all this time
For a better tomorrow in vain
Know that I, I never meant to cause you any sorrow
I meant to cause you any pain

Oh, I
I blame it all on me, yeah
Lord knows that I could've been there
Could've been there
When you needed me but I'm here now (fought the whole world)
Fighting back the tears, I can't believe I gotta say goodbye
It's too soon to cry for you
Forgive me momma that I, I'm fighting back the tears
I can't believe my little brother died
Way too soon to cry for you

No, hell no
I'm thinking 'bout setting it off (thinking 'bout setting it off)
Thinking 'bout killing them all (thinking 'bout killing them all)
They say retaliation is mandatory

Lord help me (Lord help me to walk away)
Lord help me (Lord help me to walk away)
Lord help me (Lord help me to walk away)
And that job will be done, oh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






I Didnt Wanna Write This Song

Your son wonder when you comin' home
I wonder why you couldn't make it home
I wonder why they love you when you gone (when you gone)
I wonder if they know how much they miss you (miss you)
Crenshaw, now they yellin', "Crenshaw" (Crenshaw)
Crenshaw, now they wearin' Crenshaw (yeah)
I wonder why they love you when you gone (when you gone)

I wonder if you're there right now, I wonder (ayy, Dom)
I wonder f you're really listenin' to what I feel right now? (Ayy, this classic shit, Dom)
(This LA shit) I wonder
I'm hopin' give the peace that'll make 'em really care right now (throw them dubs up)
Yeah (one time for our nigga)
But you're gone and it just isn't fair right now
Right now, yeah (we got the world lit)
On God (on God), the work is never done (we love you, Nip)
The good, they die young, used to be my sun
Even when it rains
The pain I feel is numb
Know that you were loved, yeah
I didn't wanna write this song

Didn't wanna write it, so it's from the heart
Even brought your homie from Leimert Park
Smokin' papers on Vernon for the hurt
Reminiscin', you in black sand, built it from the dirt
Los Angeles, the gift and a curse
Focused on your neighborhood but you shifted the Earth
You had the Staples Center packed like a church
Whole South Central put they hands on your hearse
I wonder if Heaven got a Slauson
You with Biggie and 'Pac, look at you, big at the bosses
Headed to a marathon, look at your nigga, he flossin'
Your legacy untouchable like Emani and Kross is
On the days that I'm feelin' exhausted
Think about uncle Snoop at the funeral talkin'
This type of shit you don't see that often
Stevie Wonder singin', he can't even see your coffin

I wonder if you're free right now, yeah
I wonder if you're happy, are you livin' out your dreams right now?
I hope the angels are givin' you your wings right now
The hardest things that I had to sing right now
Right now, right now
Oh, God
The best was yet to come (sometimes)
The good, they die young, used to be the sun
Even when it rains, yeah
Pain I feel is numb (numb)
You'll always be loved
I didn't wanna write this song

Ayy, shit sound like it look
All the history you made, nigga, I could write a book
You had the Eight Treys walkin' with the 60s
I witnessed it all, you was right there with me (I didn't wanna write this song)
From Eritrea to South Central
From South Central to Brooklyn, look at what you been through
Mind over matter, yeah, it's all mental
But I still don't trust 12 when I see 'em in my rearview
Six years ago, I could've been you
Me and some of my own homies had the same issues
If I come, tell God to let me in
Give 'em the room next to Aaliyah with ESPN
You got years fallin' down the cheeks of Mexicans
You got a number in my phone I can't text again
And if they killed you, they could kill Game
But I don't mind dyin' if it's gon' bring real change

Say hi to the sky, now it's your turn to fly
Still we cry (still we cry)
I wish I could've protected you there (protected you there)
Just say hi to the sky, now it's your turn to fly
Still we cry
Cry, cry
Still we cry, yeah
Cry, cry
I cry
Didn't wanna write this song down

Dear rap game, we can't take no more losses
Thank you God for Nipsey Hussle
King of LA, Slauson
Clap for him
Clap for him
Marathon Continues
(I didn't wanna write this song)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Marsha Ambrosius
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






The Code

Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)

Live by the code, die by the code, never been a hoe
Bury me before I sell my soul ('fore I sell my soul)
Live by the code, die by the code, never been a hoe
Bury me before I sell my soul ('fore I sell my soul)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)

I was young, black, and ashy, '42 khakis
Red rag in my pocket, throwin' up blood to any car that ever pass me
Gangbang classy, gold hand bone, mama said I'm too flashy
Niggas wanna jack me, tell 'em, "Run it," like a track meet
On my DMX shit, tell my enemies to get at me
I'm from Compton where the bitches carry ratchets
And niggas in wheelchairs ain't never heard of Degrassi
Raw hand, I'm gutter, Dre had to Aftermath me
Had a flow when I was a rider, Compton like Tallahassee
First album classic, second album classic
So I skipped the hoodrats and went straight to the cassies
NYC, top-down, Big blastin'
Nas said I'd be a legend, nigga, don't gas me
Hot in '97, Funk Flex had to ask me
"How you make out that beef with Hov?"
Nigga, my passion

I was in New York the first time I heard "Dear Summer" on Hot 97
Top of the W Hotel, 54th and Broadway
Lookin' out my window at Diddy in a Sean John sweatsuit
I felt ambushed by New York niggas

Live by the code, die by the code (it's still west side though)
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code, never been a hoe
Bury me before I sell my soul ('fore I sell my soul)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops) (f*ck 12)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)
Live by the code, die by the code, never been a hoe
Bury me before I sell my soul ('fore I sell my soul)
Live by the code, die by the code, never been a hoe
Bury me before I sell my soul ('fore I sell my soul)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)

See the thing I miss about hip hop the most was the storytelling
That B.I.g. Shit, that nas shit, that Slick Rick shit
That Tribe Called Quest
You know that, that, "Cruisin' Down the Street in My '64", R.I.p. To Eazy
I ain't got nothin' against new hip hop, I f*ck with all you niggas
And remember, nigga
I was young too, let's go

Made it out the hood and some, I'm on my fourth passport
God gave me all this shit, I ain't have to ask for it
Gold things on a '97 Honda Passport
Black ski mask on, runnin' from the task force
Uzi, had the cash for it, and I had the stash for it
Foot on the brake, hit the wipers, open the dashboard
Sold drugs, made straight A's, and I was playin' sports
Youngin' and fresh, six bricks inside of Jansport
Fast forward, countin' this money on Aftermath fort
Bought a new Ferrari, gave my bitch ten stacks
Told her, "Don't come back here," 'til she got a ass for it
Told her, "Run through mac and then Louis to get a bag for it"
I give you classics when you ask for it
I Vince Carter-ed everything Just Blaze threw off the backboard
F*ck a Grammy, that is not what I come back for
I came for hip-hop, niggas forgot to lock the back door

Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul ('fore I sell my soul)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (f*ck 12)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)
Live by the code, die by the code, never been a hoe
Bury me before I sell my soul ('fore I sell my soul)
Live by the code, die by the code, never been a hoe
Bury me before I sell my soul ('fore I sell my soul)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (woo)

Ask around Atlanta, Savage known to let it bang-bang (bang)
Gang-gang, get a nigga stabbed in the chain gang
Lieutenant like I'm Dan Wayne, bring the major pain-pain
Candle-light, falsified, fish fried, gang gang
All I know is A-B-C-D-E-F-G shit
When I'm with the chopper, watch a nigga get seasick
Throwin' up the pyramid, like I'm from Egypt
The hunnid round see-through, y'all so see-through
I know real Crips and they say they never see you
Just like Clifford, I'm the big red blood, ayy
Glock 45, get a big red slug
You ain't blood, you a bitch, you a big red stud
Way before the rap, I trapped it out the coal
I didn't know how the water whip, I straight dropped the dough
All these guns in the car, I gotta wear a seatbelt
I ain't got no license, so I gotta wear my seatbelt
I do this shit myself, nigga, I don't need help
Walk up on 'em with that, god help me, he a priest now
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)
Posted on the block, deuce-deuce in my sock
Feel like Mozzy, I got one up top (yeah)
Couple years, real niggas gonna be extinct (bam)
Bitch, I got a MAC-10 under this mink (hey)
Pull up, let it blink, nigga, I don't think (oh)
Your hood Titanic, we gon' make that shit sink (straight up)

Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code, never been a hoe
Bury me before I sell my soul ('fore I sell my soul)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (f*ck 12)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (cops)
AK with the stop (stop), 30 on the Glock (Glock)
Kill all the opps (opps), ride on the cops (woo)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Taylor, Jerry Strickland, Reuben Bell, She'yaa Abraham-Joseph
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management






Stay Down

You say he ain't treatin' you right, huh?
Still, yeah
So go and tell me why

Why you upset (yeah), why you frownin' (why)
Why you frownin', why you down, and (yeah)
Niggas wildin', love to waste time, and (that's right)
Play her like violin, I had to dial in (pick the phone up, yeah)
Yeah, I had to dial in you was the angel
That got assigned him
You had to change him, had to remind him
Love was a danger, right then I chimed in (had to chime in)
Why even try him? You ain't on the side of him
And if it's not him, I guess it's mine then
I played the side then, guess I'm the main now
Got a man, boy can run and play games now (play the games now)
I know it's strange how (yeah), you get the praise now
You get the claim now
Things been so much different since I came 'round
She say, "Damn," like she trippin' out the Greyhound
Call me (call me), soon as the plane down when you saw me (girl, yeah)
Smiles on your face now 'til your jaws weak (yeah)
Ain't nobody else is all me (it's all me)
Since you met me it was all me (yeah), for real (real)

'Til the mornin', 'til the evenin' (evenin')
Give you real love, when you need it (when you need it)
If he was decent, wait 'til you see this (yeah)
I better love you, more than he can (more than he can)
'Til the mornin', 'til the evenin'
I give you real love, when you need it
If he was decent, wait 'til you see this
I better love you, more than he can

Wake up, break up, make up, play f*ck
Lay up, no sleep, no sex, say less
Get dressed, then trade up
Two cribs, revolvin' doors, AM, PM
I'm in, I'm out, she stressed, she saw a DM
And I'm still not a player, but you still a hater
New elevator to the top, hah, see you later, I'm gone
New AP, pimped out piece
In-house cheeks, Z-4 pimped out seats
Penthouse suite, lease with an option to buy
Coppin' the 5-0 Benz, for when I'm not in the sky
Puffin' a lot, sippin' on that Cliquot
Up in the Benz, he throw with this freak hoe
Drippin' like I'm G Perico
I ain't a player, but I crush a lot
When I'm inside of designer, eyeliner turn to tears when I touch the spot
Throw up the Duss', I'm about gettin' loot
And I knock those boots on that Roosevelt roof
Don't wanna be a player no more
I'm not a player, I just crush a lot
Game and Tiller lit, and still got what you lookin' for
Stay down, stay down, stay down

'Til the mornin', 'til the evenin' (evenin')
Give you real love, when you need it (when you need it)
If he was decent, wait 'til you see this (yeah)
I better love you, more than he can (more than he can)
'Til the mornin', 'til the evenin'
I give you real love, when you need it
If he was decent, wait 'til you see this
I better love you, more than he can

Don't wanna be a player no more
Game and Tiller lit, and still got what you lookin' for
Stay down, stay down, stay down
Don't wanna be a player no more
Game and Tiller lit, and still got what you lookin' for
Stay down, stay down, stay down
Stay down, stay down, stay down
Stay down, stay down, stay down
Stay down, stay down, stay down
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Bryson Tiller
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Hug The Block

My daddy died, I paid for his whole funeral
I get it, I was supposed to
But after that, if you knew what I had to go through
You would understand why I wanted inside that hole too
You ain't even give me a hug or a pound yet
Askin' for money, daddy ain't even in the ground yet
That ain't what bros do
How you spend your whole life with a stranger you call your brother that don't know you?
2006 Bentley coupe parked at Nobu
I was your bulletproof vest when them Crips tried to smoke you
Shit be hurtin' my heart so I approached you
We on the same team but you think I'm tryna coach you
I was in first class, I looked back you was mad
So I gave up my seat and sat in coach too
Here's somethin' to toast to
I bought the weed the blunts you smoked that and the roach too

(Calling) all this stress got me pourin' shots
(Out to) can't hug my daddy so I hug the block
(All my) you supposed to be my family but I know you not
(Family)
(Calling) all this stress got me pourin' shots
(Out to) can't hug my daddy so I hug the block
(All my) you supposed to be my family but I know you not
(Family)

Over a bitch dawg? All this shit over a bitch dawg?
I mean really over this bitch dawg?
I was LeBron, you were supposed to be my Rich Paul
Baby to Slim when a nigga got rich dawg
But your love turn to hate that's what we split for
When the f*ck you get soft
And start talkin' behind my back like baby mamas when they pissed off?
I couldn't f*ck with your energy when the shits off
Hate it or love it video inside that 64
Me and 50 was the twin towers
You hit us from the inside and watch both them shits fall
I almost died, you ain't save me then
You ain't patch the bullet holes in my Mercedes Benz
You hate me now, you hate me then
I remember the way you looked at me in my baby crib, my brother's keeper, right?

(Calling) all this stress got me pourin' shots
(Out to) can't hug my daddy so I hug the block
(All my) you supposed to be my family but I know you not
(Family)
(Calling) all this stress got me pourin' shots
(Out to) can't hug my daddy so I hug the block
(All my) you supposed to be my family but I know you not
(Family)

I can't believe this life took my pops
We fightin' each other and we both look like pops
Nah, I take that back I look like pops
And when I see you you look like opps
You look like Biggie, I look like Pac
F*ck it we can both die, all this shit is for nothin'
I'd kill my own brother I ain't bluffin'
It's a temptation of mine and you look like David Ruffin
I can see you and my enemies in a dark room
Or maybe I'm hallucinatin' like I'm off shrooms
But I'm not, you mad my life is a movie
And you been hatin' since turnin' off my cartoons
All this shit bottled inside, I'm 'bout to blow up
Pimp the butterflies in my stomach before I throw up
So what I got this Hennessy, it's time to pour up
You 44 years old nigga, it's time to grow up

(Calling) all this stress got me pourin' shots (callin' all my)
(Out to) can't hug my daddy so I hug the block (family)
(All my) you supposed to be my family but I know you not
(Family) (all my)
(Calling) all this stress got me pourin' shots (calling)
(Out to) can't hug my daddy so I hug the block (out to)
(All my) you supposed to be my family but I know you not
(Family) (all my, all my, all my)

(Callin' all my family)
(Yeah)
(Callin' all my family)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, The Administration MP, Inc.






Ask For Me

Aight, come on

Soon as Dre say what Dre say, we on a yacht
Mediterranean Sea bangin' Dre Day, nigga
Goldchain like it's my payday, nigga
Two days away from land, yeah, mayday, nigga
Come on
Dolphins hoppin' out the water like a '64 Impala, come on
You in the club tossin' dollars for bitches that suck and swallow
I rub the wood on a model like openin' night at Apollo
I give her the Captain's Jack, she gon' feel like she in Astroworld tomorrow
T-shirts gettin' borrowed, sunsets in Monte Carlo

Can you fill that glass for me?
Half Henny, half lemonade
Goin' up to renegade 'cause it's still Aftermath with me
Is it blasphemy if I take shots of holy water and ask the nun, will she blast for me?
If I baptize a stripper, if she want me to tip her shake them titties and that ass for me
I told her I can't stay but here's where I stay
When you get there just ask for me

I got verses from Nas, beats from Swizz
Hooks from Blige, all that shit feedin' my kids
Took three to my side, two in my ribs
Bullet stuck in my leg, still, nigga, I'm here
Got samples from Blaze, killed shit from Premier
If niggas call my shit classic, it is what it is
Poured Lean with Wayne, ain't sipped it in years
After what happened to Triple X, my vision is clear
I be like Cyclops, see niggas from five blocks
Ask your man, my superpower these five Glocks
Yachts with stash spots, my niggas is black ops
We f*ckin' these white hoes and flickin' off black cops
I know I'm a asshole, I grew up a have-not
Now we dockin' in Caiman islands and then make a cash drop
Ferrari and Backwoods, Chronic the mascot
So high, I forgot this bitch name, ayy

Can you fill that glass for me?
Half Henny, half lemonade
Goin' up to renegade 'cause it's still Aftermath with me
Is it blasphemy if I take shots of holy water and ask the nun, will she blast for me?
If I baptize a stripper, if she want me to tip her shake them titties and that ass for me
I told her I can't stay but here's where I stay
When you get there just ask for me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © ENTERTAINMENT ONE U.S. LP






Stainless

Rollin' on the 1-0-5 (1-0-5)
I don't drink when I drive (I don't think you know)
But I gotta do it high (know)
Blowin' smoke in the sky (smoke in the sky)
It's something you should try (something you should try)
Swear to God it's a vibe (know)
Got the stainless on my side (stainless on my side)
This pretty thing by my side (I don't think you know)
Say she rollin' with the vibe (know)
And she rollin' with the vibe (rollin' with the vibe)
And she rollin' with the, vibe (and she rollin' with the, vibe)

2 A.M. I was all alone (alone)
Lamborghini truck in the and the Sade song (sade song)
All day long just callin' my phone (phone)
You and your friends wanna tag along
2 A.M. I was all alone (alone)
Lamborghini truck in the and the sade song (sade song)
All day long just callin' my phone (phone)
You and your friends wanna tag along

You and your friends
You and yours (you and yours)
You and yours (you and yours)
You and your friends
You and yours (you and yours)
You and yours (you and yours)

If I'm stuntin' then I'm stuntin'
If I'm drippin' then I'm drippin'
Lambo truck with blue laces tell Nipsey it's crippin'
Zero to sixty still shoot it with precision, these is grown man bars
Nigga sit down while you pissin'
Picture me rollin' like Pac, nigga
But I ain't Pac, nigga
I be in that Bimmer with a cock, nigga
Death Row chain just for the trip, I ain't affiliated
West side nigga so they really hate it
I be out in Las Vegas, at the MGM
By the crap tables in some MCM
And it's Monday I'm lookin' like somebody MCM
Niggas better watch their bitches, I be in DM's
Baby Lane killed Pac, niggas killed baby Lane
Bunchry was bustin' back heron died in his chain
A fatal car crash killed Fatal Hussein
Rip Kadafi, ridin' down memory lane

Rollin' on the 1-0-5 (1-0-5)
I don't drink when I drive (I don't think you know)
But I gotta do it high (know)
Blowin' smoke in the sky (smoke in the sky)
It's something you should try (something you should try)
Swear to God it's a vibe (know)
Got the stainless on my side (stainless on my side)
This pretty thing by my side (I don't think you know)
Say she rollin' with the vibe (know)
And she rollin' with the vibe (rollin' with the vibe)
She rollin' with the, vibe (and she rollin' with the, vibe)

2 A.M. I was all alone (alone)
Lamborghini truck in the and the Sade song (sade song)
All day long just callin' my phone (phone)
You and your friends wanna tag along
2 A.M. I was all alone (alone)
Lamborghini truck in the and the sade song (sade song)
All day long just callin' my phone (phone)
You and your friends wanna tag along

You and your friends
You and yours (you and yours)
You and yours (you and yours)
You and your friends
You and yours (you and yours)
You and yours (you and yours)

I went from wantin' to be Suge, to hatin' Suge, to f*ckin' with him
28 years' a long ass time, it's f*ckin' with him
Talked to him on the phone the other day
'Bout how Crenshaw was before Dre, now I'm back in L.A.
Ridin' sunset with my clip full
Watchin' the sunset 'cause this shit cool
Life be like that, I'm just tryna catch a vibe, nigga
See some bitches, roll some trees and get high nigga
Run up on my Lambo, that's suicide nigga
Pistol grip, pump on my lap at all time
If the nigga brown, brown rap, it's prolly sound like this
Somewhere between cube and kiss, I can't miss
Documentary, doctor's Ave.
When niggas was really platinum on the 'math
Executive produced by Dr. Dre but that's the past
Believe it now, you play with Dre's name, I'm on your ass

Rollin' on the 1-0-5 (1-0-5)
I don't drink when I drive (I don't think you know)
But I gotta do it high (know)
Blowin' smoke in the sky (smoke in the sky)
It's something you should try (something you should try)
Swear to god it's a vibe (know)
Got the stainless on my side (stainless on my side)
This pretty thing by my side (I don't think you know)
Say she rollin' with the vibe (know)
And she rollin' with the vibe (rollin' with the vibe)
And she rollin' with the, vibe (and she rollin' with the, vibe)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Brandon Paak Anderson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O CAPASSO






Gangstas Make The Girls Go Wild

(Girls go wild)
(Make the girls go wild)

Hundred million dollars and we straight (and we straight)
Summer rush, yeah, I'ma house out on that lake (on that lake)
Granny told me, "Go be great" (go be great)
Drip like the kitchen sink while you smilin' in they face, yeah
Never late, forever straight
Heavyweights, don't make us demonstrate
Industry niggas be actin' hella fake
Let me smoke and meditate before I f*ck around and catch a case
Shit, we do this every day, they hatin', nigga, let 'em hate
Bring this Draco to your living room and let it decorate
Some of my niggas Crips, some Blood, we don't segregate
Spread these bottles 'round the club, we got hella crates
Standin' on these couches tryna elevate
We in the VIP surrounded by yellow tape
And it's my 22nd off of Section 8
Might kiss Ella Mai in the mouth just to celebrate

Rain down, let you hair hang down in the summertime
And the gangstas make the girls go wild
Baby, know we up though, ain't nothin' but a G thang
Always strapped up, no problem (no problem)
Put your cup in the air
It's a gangsta party
Blow it in the air, baby
I want all the smoke
Bring it over here, baby
Got you on call, bang on this, babe
I'ma pull your card, now
Gangstas make the girls go wild

.38s on the reds vonny tank
Black and gold, breeze through like a New Orleans Saint
Dm your bitch, think I ain't?
Gon' hit the Met Gala steps with her drippin' like some wet paint
Do what I want, nigga, this L.A.
I hit a switch and had the Impala squeakin' like Michel'le
And this chain cost a hundred K
Try to take it
I catch fades like Obie Jay
We out in Vegas playin' spades at the Mandalay
We gotta make it, shit, it really ain't no other way
Stay dangerous, keep it on you case you gotta spray
Try and get all your niggas out the hood and buy some real estate
Motivate, been 15 years since I sold a eighth
Ten bands in every pocket got me feelin' overweight
My ex bitch came back around like a rollerskate
I told her ass, "If you can't roll a blunt, you can't roll the Wraith"

Rain down, let you hair hang down in the summertime
And the gangstas make the girls go wild
Baby, know we up though, ain't nothin' but a G thang
Always strapped up, no problem (no problem)
Put your cup in the air
It's a gangsta party
Blow it in the air, baby
I want all the smoke, bring it over here, baby
Got you on call, bang on this, babe
I'ma pull your card
Gangstas make the girls go wild
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Christopher Brown
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Blood Thicker Than Water

Oh, no, no, no
Yeah, bloodstains dripping from my eyes
Pain got me lookin' to the sky
Ayy, Streetrunner, you know the history
Blood's thicker than water

The best rapper alive ain't up for debate
'Cause every time you challenge the throne, niggas hate
Just like your neighborhood, niggas smile when they in your face
Conspire behind your back and then show up to your wake
That shit fake, whatever it takes, you gotta defeat those odds
And don't trust nobody on this Earth except your mama and God
Niggas showin' they true colors, you don't even ask why
'Cause niggas always watch you cook, they want a slice of your pie
Ain't even surprised, keep your eye on the prize and aim for the sky
You was born by yourself and that's the way you gon' die
Get the f*ck up off your ass and stop wastin' your time
Don't get discouraged by no mountain, that shit easy to climb
You gotta do it at your own pace just like I tell my son
I can't do this for you, bro, you gotta win your own race
Stop walkin' around this mansion with the long face
Look at everything your daddy accomplished when you want faith
And remember, the real see through the fake
You gotta grind through this shit, you do whatever it takes
You gotta take of who you love, give your mama continuous hugs
Stop havin' all these expectations from people who ain't your blood

Yeah
Bloodstains drippin' from my eyes (my eyes)
Pain got me lookin' to the sky (oh, why)
Why, oh why?
Oh why, oh, why?
Blood's thicker than water
Spent my whole life tryin' not to die (whole life)
Only time that I feel alive
When I look in your eyes

I know life ain't easy, I know death is hard
I know pain, I been to funerals, seen families scarred
Look at my skin, all these tattoos, bullet wounds, and scars
Can't nobody tell me shit, I used to sleep in my car
I know that life ain't easy, I know death is hard
I know tears can sometimes drown a broken heart
I know it's hard to make it up when you was down from the start
I know I ain't goin' back, already came too far
Life ain't easy, it ain't supposed to be
Ain't none of you niggas gon' f*ck over me
I walk with God and I'ma stay clutchin' these Rosaries
You ain't gotta be on my side, I keep a Glock 9 close to me
Bulletproof Rolls the color of a coca leaf
Ak-47 under my chauffeur seat
They killin' niggas in Compton, some of y'all hope it's me
That thought alone make niggas paranoid, so watch how you approachin' me

Yeah
Bloodstains drippin' from my eyes
Pain got me lookin' to the sky
Oh why, oh, why?
Oh why, oh, why?
Oh why
Yeah
Spent my whole life tryin' not to die
Only time that I feel alive
When I look in your eyes
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Tremaine Neverson
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Rewind II

The bullet comes out of his head back in the Draco
I moonwalk back to the car, gun on my waist
Take the ski mask off of my face, blunt flies back in the trunk
Between my index and my middle finger, it's stuck
Inhale the smoke, take a puff
Drivin' in reverse, proceed to light it up
'Mattic, still Nas to listenin'
It's me and the opp, gets further in distance, hand on my watch
Movin' backwards, the Chronic jumps out the Backwood
As the leaf waits for the guts and rolls itself back up
Text from a bitch sayin', "Eat to goin' still?"
My phone back in my pocket, took my knee off the wheel
Hand on my wheel, my car in drive, foot on the gas
Up the freeway ramp, adjust the rearview and look at my past
Speed goin' back up on the dash as I listen to Hill, Lauryn
And uncrumble all of this hash
Back in the carpool flippin' off 12
The window comes down and in comes pistachio shells
Cutie smilin' at me, I unthrew up the deuce
Triple one-two, three-one-three, three-one-two
On the side of a purple Maseratti, wonder if she got a body up
Or should I think I? It's a hottie
Goin' down on the up ramp, creep slow, back to the light
I'ma kill 'em 'fore the end of the night
Talkin' on my burner cell like, "At he where?"
Back into a parkin' spot, handicap in the mirror
Car door opens, my nigga out yells, "Woo-Su"
Windows roll up, I'm thinkin' to myself, "Who these niggas in this coupe?"
Back in the store, Woods back in my hand
Sit 'em on the counter as he hands me back my Benz
And says, "Nigga my, you thank," I pass him a coke can
Ten thousand goes back in my pocket in rubber bands
Back to the whip in rewind, back to the spot
Walkin' up the stairs backwards, the clip comes outta the Glock
The key goes back in the lock
I walk in facin' out, take my shoes off and fall on the couch
This bitch takes my dick out of her mouth
Stands back up and tells me what her day was about
We hug as her clothes fly up her hands
Lip singin' B Cardi while she dance
Tapes Bundy Ted, credits roll down chill and Netflix
As I unfasten the latch on my Cuban link necklace
She gave me a second hug for the first time
Walks outta the door back in the Uber as I'm cleanin' my .9
I sit it down right next to my phone
Go back to sleep and undream about Rihanna runnin' 'round in a thong
Woke up tired and went back to the booth
Sample God's Sons, rewind it and wrote it backwards to a loop

Listen up gangsters and honeys with your hair done
Pull up a chair, hon', and put it in the air, son
Dawg, whatever they call you, God, just listen
I spit a story backwards, it starts at the endin'
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






One Life

One life, nigga, one love
Reach them heights and keep goin' up
Hundred miles and runnin', we ain't slowin' up
15 Bentleys back to back, yeah, they know it's us
They know it's us
Hit them lights and come glow with us
Yeah, throw them dice and keep rollin' up
Had to earn them stripes when we was growin' up
Niggas see you make it out, they hate to show you love

I'm honestly a veteran
An odyssey, a river ends
I gotta speak it from within, yeah
A lot of tree, a lot of gems

Bottle all that hate and bring it over here
Don't be scared, accept your fate, mind over fear
How many funerals I done been to all these years?
Got it tatted on my face so I don't shed a tear
Just so we clear, niggas been hatin' on me my whole career
Catchin' fades while the little homies hold my beer
Had to move out of Compton, too much tension here
Glock on my lap, I'm in this Lamborghini switchin' gears
I been rappin' at this level for like 15 years
My nigga Pup had been in solitary my whole career
I know my purpose, kill any nigga that wanna interfere
Shoot that nigga, pick up the shell, keep it for a souvenir, yeah
It's hard to smile when you losin' peers
Paint on that Grand National lookin' like some new veneers
All black tint, they lookin' at it like, "Who in there?"
This LA, think twice before movin' here

You only got one life, nigga, one love
Reach them heights and keep goin' up
Hundred miles and runnin', we ain't slowin' up
15 Bentleys back to back, yeah, they know it's us
They know it's us
Hit them lights and come glow with us
Yeah, throw them dice and keep rollin' up
Had to earn them stripes when we was growin' up
Niggas see you make it out, they hate to show you love

I'm honestly a veteran
An odyssey, a river ends
I gotta speak it from within, yeah
A lot of tree, a lot of gems

Yeah, sellin' my own taste to put food on the dinner plate
I used to curb syrup but it was better on that interstate
You could tell what's on my belt to know I'm heavyweight
My .45 compliment the Louis, I'm forever straight
I was grindin' on the steps just to make a profit
I was tryna get a check, I'm just bein' honest
We was taught to stay solid and remain loyal
My reputation good and my game royal
We was cookin' crack, makin' cocaine boil
Invade your block with my troopers like we came for oil
We gave up our childhood just to go on Slauson
When you see that yellow tape, nigga, you know it's caution
Nigga, you ain't been against all odds
Nigga, you ain't been to Crenshaw High, no, no
Nigga, you ain't never did drive-bys
Nigga, you ain't never seen shots fired
Nope, quiet

The Cincinnati fitted made me a marked man
By the Parma blocks and 12 sittin' inside that parked van
Pacin' to the store, pocket full of hard tin
Let me get a Olde English, yeah, the tall can
It really ain't no options when you born in Compton
Shoot at your opps and keep them cops out 'til they bring the SWAT in
They told Dre not to sign that nigga, "He a hot head"
The Documentary went diamond, that's what brought Dot in
I'm a gangbanger, f*ck your top 10
Tell your engineer make space and get your ass boxed in
I never fold under pressure I ain't gon' never break
I never told, I never snitch, I never hesitate to pull my .9
Empty the clip, if I get caught, I'ma do my time
I took the risk, counted my losses, I'ma die for mine
My kids first, my mama second
On my daddy grave, you don't wanna test it, nigga

One life, nigga, one love
Reach them heights and keep goin' up
Hundred miles and runnin', we ain't slowin' up
15 Bentleys back to back, yeah, they know it's us
They know it's us
Hit them lights and come glow with us
Yeah, throw them dice and keep rollin' up
Had to earn them stripes when we was growin' up
Niggas see you make it out, they hate to show you love

My job is to, somehow, make them curious enough
Or persuade them, by hook or crooked
To get more aware of themselves and where they came from
And what they are into and what is already there, and just to bring it out
This is what compels me to compel them
And I will do it by whatever means necessary
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Micah Davis, J. Stone
Copyright: Lyrics © DENNIS SCOTT D/B/A ACT IV MUSIC, The Administration MP, Inc.






Cross On Jesus Back

They put a cross on Jesus' back
They made him crawl 'til his knees was black
They put a cross on Jesus' back
They made him crawl 'til his knees was black

Super good
How many people endure that judgment?
The steeple is meant to usher the presence of Higher Power
But the reverend desires showers with seven virgins
And hours of heaven, lustful pleasures
A couple C cups and the essence enough to keep blood rushin'
I f*ck with her heavy
I might jump in her belly
I might summon her friends just so we all function like Eddie
I treat it like an animal, plus the camera's on steady
Do my damage then go scramble leaf panties like levies
They gon' judge me no matter what I do, uh
So I keep my halo with a peace sign, give a f*ck 'bout you, uh
When I recline, I'ma need a fee, never get enough, I knew
I barely even touched my food
We skipped the appetizers, I slid inside her
When I'm done, I'm like, "What the f*ck I do?"
Now her head's on my sleeve, and my hand's on her weave
She wanna stay and parler and conversate over trees
But now I'm ready to leave
And I'm just wonderin' where my keys is at

They put a cross on Jesus' back
They made him crawl 'til his knees was black
They put a cross on Jesus' back
They made him crawl 'til his knees was black

One time 'bout to pull up
One time 'bout to pull up
Tell them niggas stop doin' pull-ups on the stop sign
Assembly line with this Glock 9
We don't toss that, tell her put in her purse
We live this real life shit then put it in a verse
Bitches frequently askin' me, "Do them bullets really hurt?"
Can't answer no questions unless you really from the turf
But I can put you on
See your curves from them curbs that I swerved up on
Legs so smooth, the type of thighs you sniff a bird up on
F*ck the Summer Walker, no many how many times we done heard that song
Daycare on your back, scoop them kids up with the shirt that's on
Back to the block where niggas stay active, no drama teachers
Just pour O.E. Out for our lost ones and stay elevated like Balenciaga sneakers
Inglewood to Compton, Space Jam's on, shot it out with monsters
13 to your back, Trispy Thomspon
K.g. I'm like the chopper had a conscious
Every nigga gotta watch how he movin'
Every picture got a nigga next to Judas
Every nigga got his own cross to bear

And that's the reason that they put a cross on Jesus' back
They made him crawl 'til his knees was black
They put a cross on Jesus' back
They made him crawl 'til his knees was black

This is Ye's Sunday service with killer and murders
Must have heard us comin', don't let them niggas in the church with us
This is Ye's Sunday service with killer and murders
Must have heard us comin', don't let them niggas in the church with us
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Daniel Anthony Farris
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Roadside

My lawyer's son died in his sleep last night
Got me thinking 'bout who I was in my past life
To be surrounded by so much pain
I understand my karma but why is theirs the same?
Two good people, two amazing sons
Just yesterday they had both, now they raising one
I look at the clouds and just think
I could lose mine or they could lose me in one blink
When I think one day it all ends, I start to drink
And fathom suicide 'cause I was almost on the brink
And it feel like my family been jinxed
Ever since I found my grandmother stiff, leaning over the kitchen sink
I could cry enough tears to float Noah's Ark
Perfect health but she died of a broken heart
And after that, it was domino effect
First my uncle, then my daddy, I guess I'm in line next

I got lost on the roadside
Yeah, I lost my way
I give thanks to the most high
'Cause He kept me safe
Hope to God that I don't die
So I pray
If I go, momma don't cry
I was on the roadside
I was on the roadside

How come you can't learn a lesson until you go through it?
How come you can think about the past but can't go to it?
If I could, I would float through it
Walk up to Triple X's BMW window and stick a note to it
Tell him to drive off, the devil coming
Ever since he fell from heaven, he been trying to settle something
I keep the faith and try not to question God
But I gotta problem when I see innocent people die
I sympathize with Jews, I sympathize with blacks
Sympathize with Natives, America's yours if you want it back
Where the hunger at?
Probably under a tree in Mississippi, by the river, where they hung us at
If Jesus walked, why we all running laps?
Feel like ending racism further than where the sun is at
A war to keep people from people, how dumb is that?
I guess we shouldn't put our thoughts on the front of hats

I got lost on the roadside
Yeah, I lost my way
I give thanks to the most high
'Cause He kept me safe
Hope to God that I don't die
So I pray
If I go, momma don't cry
I was on the roadside
I was on the roadside

Fall short and my soul will fly
Caught trippin' on the other side
I know it happen to me every time
Caught out on the roadside
Thumb high in the wind, ditch high
Tell my momma, I'ma be alright now
I'll be home in a few weeks, soon
'Til then, I'll sing this song to you

I got lost on the roadside
Yeah, I lost my way
I give thanks to the most high
'Cause He kept me safe
Hope to God that I don't die
So I pray
If I go, momma don't cry
I was on the roadside

I got lost on the roadside
Yeah, I lost my way
I give thanks to the most high
'Cause He kept me safe
Hope to God that I don't die
So I pray
If I go, momma don't cry
I was on the roadside
I was on the roadside
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Edward Christopher Sheeran
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Back to: The Game


Born 2 Rap is the ninth studio album by American rapper the Game. It was released on November 29, 2019 via eOne Music. Its release coincided with the Game's fortieth birthday. It was advertised as his final album before retiring, although Game resumed his recording career in 2021.

It features guest appearances from Dom Kennedy, Ed Sheeran, 21 Savage, Anderson .Paak, Bryson Tiller, Chris Brown, D Smoke, J. Stone, Just Liv, Masego, Marsha Ambrosius, Miguel, Mozzy, Nipsey Hussle, Osbe Chill, Red Café, Sly Pyper, ToBi, Travis Barker and Trey Songz.
Performed By: The Game
Genre(s): Hip hop, West Coast hip hop
Length: 90:12
Released: November 29th, 2019
Year: 2019

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