1.It's Okay (One Blood) (Remix)
Uh huh... Jones, Dipset... Byrdgang, bitch
You know what it is
When you see me two twelvin you homie
You bitch niggaz keep triple ninin, have some integrity, bitch
BALLLLLIN'
Peace blood, peace almighty
We all thugs and we run the streets nightly
And get my lawyer, why？ Cause I ain't coppin' out
And I fuck wit b-boys who bring them choppers out
One shot of that will have the boys bring the coppers out
And we ballin, for all the toys is what we hoppin out
My feary side, where we ride
And we all fly high in the Leer G5's
So, twist ya fingers up and bang, mufucka bang!
Get ya money up, this cane is what we fuckin slang!
And a 9 trey is what I fuckin' claim!
It's Dipset Capo the Don of the Byrdgang!
They call the D-O-Dub... wasn't really trippin cause
21, 20 crips and all of us is crippin, cuz
We from a different street, all got that different heat
But when we move the macs for Game, we on the same beat
So if you fuck with blood, then you fuck wit us
And we ain't bustin duds, watch out, cause we bustin slugs
We sure to stay in touch and clean your mess up
And if you from the West Coast, my nigga... w-w-w-w-WESTSIDE!
Game got at me about the remix, its an honor my nigga
I made rap, one blood, that say I'm signin wit Jigga
I got rappers gettin mad at me
I got these new jack rappers tryin to clap at me
I got these corny wannabe, diss-song kings on the radio
Talkin bout how they gon spray, and take me away
But I'm the true living, legend, I'm not to be questioned
Have your whole hood holler shit about my progression
You knowin my attitude shitty, only a buck fifty
So I keep the smitty's wit me, shit, how many wit me？
What, you scared？ I'm prepared, in the MALL AND ALL!
Wit two two's, you can call me QUICK DRAW McGRAW!
Bitch, I'ma cut that fool, better CALL THE LAW!
I start sprayin, make fuck nigga FALL AND CRAWL!
I press play like Puff, no PAUSE AT ALL!
Choppin holes in ALL THE WALLS, that's ALL THEY SAW!
Hip-Hop ain't dead, it just took a couple shots
I bring it back to life, give it a couple shots
The kings comin, no, I'm not Jay-Z
Too many niggaz hate me, but they scared to face me
This ain't a movie dog, no, not Waist Deep
I'm not an actor, but I'll show your bitch Big Meek
She givin one blood, one love, on dubs
140 thousand the first week... UHHH!
All these niggaz wanna front trill with them stiff faces
Till them niggaz lyin still up in stiff cases
Within styrofome... and embalmin fluid
I been gone too long and I'm down to lose it
Somebody go and get this nigga a pine box
And I ain't just talkin about a measly nine shots
Yeah I'm chopper happy and my wrist loose
Call me Goldie, I'll smack your bitch too!
504 gangsta, New Orleans soldier
Bangin underwater, fuck around and soak ya
Louisiana gunner, I'm bout my holster
And if you gettin greasy, I'm an ulcer
I'm bickin back, bein bool on the Eastside
Or New Orleans where the bloods at the bee hive
Ain't nothin sweet unless its presidential
Cause that is where I sleep, now give me my key!
New York get the blood money, dirty cash - still sweet
We will black wall street by the swapmeet with heat
Def Jam, they gonna flop him and Reggaeton ain't hot in
The building no more... It's OKAY! I GET IT POPPIN!
Back to the forest trees for deep, these little me's
Who took believers an opportunity to breathe
And you ain't gotta go overseas to see our rap shit
You can come to left, round Queens and get jacked quick
(One blood) we used to the spillin
(Came from the hood) so we used to the killin
Used to the black males (makin cracksales in the buildin)
(How else you get the benz) with the suede on the ceiling？
(Blood in) blood out (me and homie) back to back
(Both loaded workin) we about to pitch a (shut out)
I'm New York's king, (I'm New York's hardest nigga)
Anything in between's a (motherfuckin' target, nigga)
D-B-(L-O-)C-K, (he spray)
The hawk'll find a nice home (right where your cheeks stay)
We got a mean team, (Hip-Hop dream team)
Them boys is only in the projects on (green screen)
Yeah, no security, (I'll put you on the respirator)
I'm the bomb, (I'm the mothafuckin detonator)
One (dutch), one (bud), one (burner), one (slug)
Want a couple casualties, but we'll settle for just (one blood)
WHAT IT LOOK LIKE？ All I say at most
Shooters waitin on the word... JUST SAY IT LOS!
I let these niggaz live, yes, I saw 'em pull the plug
Havin goons pullin gloves, leave the room full of slugs
Catch me trafficin, on maroon colored dubs
Couple Africans, with balloons full of drugs
If they like me, tell 'em line up
While I sit behind team, point 'em out like a line up
Mic check, one two, one two, check
I'm strapped, you strapped, let's play two on two
Let's go, you're eyein us in the iron bus, BOOM!
Leak ya, two liters of red juice, hawaiian punch
So what you boys gon do to me？ I'm born street
Your life's sweet, MTV's Laguna Beach (damn!)
Mama told me not to play with fire but
She never told me I would grow to be a liar
One love to the gangs, but I'm in the thangs
Save the colors for the cars, see we kill for the fame (Ross)
The boss made it, yeah, we floss flagrant
Shame how I lost your life savings up in Las Vegas (Ross)
I'm a heavy better, I'm a heavy seller
Keep white in the office call it Jerry Heller
Lettin off a hundred rounds, let the barrel pick
And we gon sit here, wait for the derrelics
Bitch I got lords and gangstas, show me where them niggaz at
Chi got two six's and kings, show me where them killas at
Chi got them ballas and hustlers, show me where them figures at
Game, where them triggers at？ Aim at them fitted caps!
He got the clips, I got the scope, let's get them choppers,
nigga
He got the kush, I got the dope, let's get it poppin, nigga
Hurt him in that cherry six fo, shit ain't no stoppin, nigga
Hit him in the head and the body with a bullet
When I put him in the cemetary then I gotta holler out!
WHATTUP CUZ？!？!
Yeah rollin with two grips
Glock holdin on the hip, rollin wit two clips
Got two tiny locos ready to take trips
Shake and make trips, high stakes to take grips
But they know what's crackin cuz, cause as we huddle
They hold cards down, nigga, like spades and pinochle
West coast gang bang, riders erasin em
Got funny niggaz raisin up and riders replacin em, cuz!
Draped in blue, notorious gangsta crew
RIP for niggaz who don't stay true
Deep down in the crevices, see the jets veteran
Dwellin in the land of the gang bang with fleshin
I'm legendary, yes, yes, a westcoaster
Throwin up two C's, wit two guns in my holster
I'm from Long Beach city, a crip next to Compton
Down wit my nigga Game, if you niggaz want problems
From the streets to the suites, anywhere we can meet
Delano to Compton, Slauson swat Meet
Worldwide, get swept away by the tide
By G's, and BG's, O.G's, its time to RIIIIDE!
Who the rider, looter through the gutter mayne？
Trued up in them Carolina blue Hurricanes!
From the westside, strivin to dead em
Where them killers throw that third letter up
Like Raymond Washington and Tookie Williams
Blue jeans, blue strings, blowin blueberry green
Cadillac on blue D's and a blue T
Money thick as blue cheese, chunkin up the dub
What the west be without Snoop and Dub C and one blood？
The Bay Area, fuckers, we pop em
Open you up if you got a problem
Up top, born in Cali-forn-ia
Clean your clock, open your can of tuna
Make a choice to see the hell or it's heaven
Get your chest layed out wit the FM 57
This ain't nothin to do with nobody
But in the Yay, there ain't nuttin to do but catch bodies
I'm comin straight outta PAT, like Compton in all black
But when we say what it do, they never say holla back
Bun B, the uh, OG like '95 Air Max
Neon green outta fight club off a fair facts
Ask the hundreds, it's doable, I done done it
At the summit of rap and I'm watchin you haters plummit
Run to it or run from it, to Bun it don't differ
Wipe the streets with ya like you a swiffer as a gifter, one
blood!
I'm the realest youngster thats breathin, and I don't gotta give
a reason
Chamillionaire a millionaire, y'all competin to be competin!
My purpose is to get the cheese and as a purpose that should
defeatin
So shut your mouth, have a seat and be quiet till I finish eatin
My label tells me I'm greedy, hoggin all the room on your tv
Like (Eric) they think its (Eazy), but it isnt easy believe me
Need to make a room in B.E. television if you wanna be me
Game said he made room for Jeezy, I had to make room for me, G!
Its one blood if you blood or cuz
From that number one thug, its still one love
I rep my blue boy team but I do it for green
I do it for my folks, vice lords and kings
All us trappers, future rappers, standin out on the blocks
Tryna get up out the hood mayne, and stack 'em a knot
Put ya sets in the air, scream fuck the cops!
We gon rep for the hood mayne, like it or not!
My feed mashable, murders are catastrophical
Cars is improbable, I'm overcomin obstacles
Trappin, I made it logical, my topic is impossible
I got a partner named Shoe Strang, cause shorty real crossable
Shark meat to Papadough's, cars be tropical
All guns choppable, all blocks are mobbable
I am unstoppable, my calico is toxable
Lyrically diabolical, kushin' is now cigarable
Red rum, red rum (such power in the tongue)
Never in the wildest, (was he talkin to them)
Style on niggaz, (but feel it to the numb)
Japanese thread, (brought flavor to these bums)
Consider me the savior, (look what the lord gave ya)
My celebrated presence (like the return of Rayful)
Frolic in the snow, so playful
(And revivin the track) like we flowin through jumper cables
(What duo) you know (get XXL kudos) while coppin off Coolio
(Classic shit) we mastered this, (left for dead) I'm back, (I'm
Lazareth)
Shit, one trip, one blood, LA, New York
The Game, the Rule, one love, guns up
Hands down, can't touch, the flow is a bit much
The style, wanna keep up？ I advise you to speed up
With money movin like coke, these days gotta re-up
G up, cop some heaters and dare a nigga to act up
You see us, in dual seaters and throw it up!
Its all hood, niggaz rep your sets if your cuz or (blood)
...Niggaz, we all bleed! These niggaz can't breathe
Only because the guns are drawn and aimed to part
Niggaz that got bullets with names on them!
Want em, come get 'em niggaz, y'all know where to get at me
Look at me, now pass me, maybe you can be half me
You bastards, I'm laughin, bullets stickin in family
Who sadly gets torn between one crip and one (blood)
Y'all niggaz know me, haha... yeah!
2.It's Okay (One Blood)
Lyricist：Danny Collington, Delroy Reid, Sharif Slater, Jayceon Taylor
Yo Dre, I thought I was dead
West coast
I'm the doctor's advocate
Nigga Dre shot ya
Brought me back from the dead
That's why they call him the doctor
The mavs gon' drop â~em
If 50 ain't rockin' wit him no more
It's ok, I get it poppin'
The whole club rockin' like da 6-4 Impala
Drink Cris throw it up call the shit hydraulics
Then piss in the cup call the shit Hipnotiq
I bleed Compton, spit crack, the shit chronic
And you new niggas ain't shit but new niggas
Baped â~n ape shoe niggas I'm talkin' to you nigga
Bounce in the 6-4 throwin' up west side man
Sell another five million albums, yes I am
Fresh like damn dis nigga did it again
A hundred thousand on his neck, LA above the brim
Inside the Lambo', shotgun wit Snoop
What would the muthafuckin' west coast be without
One crip and one blood？
One blood, one blood, one blood
Blood, blood, blood
One blood, one blood, one blood, one blood, one blood
I'm from the west side of the 6-4 Impala
When niggas say, â½Where you from？â
We'll never say holla
Bandana on the right side, gun on the left side
Niggas in New York know how to throw up the west side
Word to Eazy, I'm so ill believe me
I made room for Jeezy
But the rest of you niggas better be glad you breathing
All I need is one reason
I'm the King and Dre said it the west coast need me
I don't know why you niggas keep tryin' me
Everybody know that I'm the heir to the Aftermath dynasty
And I ain't got to make shit for the club
What DJ gon' turn down the 38 snub？
You 38 and you still rappin'？ Uhh
I'm 26 nigga, so is the dubs
On the â~07 Hummer hop out
Nobody guards, when the chronic
Smoke clear, all you gon' see is one blood
One blood, one blood, one blood
Blood, blood, blood
One blood, one blood, one blood, one blood, one blood
I ain't got beef wit 50, no beef wit J
What's beef when you gettin' head in the 6 trey？
And the double game change, I keep â~em on display
Black t-shirt so all you see is the A
Turn on the TV and all you see is the A
You niggas better make up a dance and try to get radio play
Keep on snappin' your fingers, I ain't goin' away
I don't regret what I spit, â~cause I know what I say
And niggas talk about me, they don't know when to stop
I got the Louis Vuitton belt buckle holdin' the glock
No beam, no silencer, I know when to pop
I wait till Lil' Jon come on and let off a shot
I had the number one Billboard spot
Niggas stepped on my fingers and I climbed right back to the top
I'm BIG, I'm Cube, I'm Nas, I'm Pac
This ain't shit but a warning till my album drop
One blood, one blood, one blood, one blood
Blood, blood, blood
One blood, one blood, one blood, one blood, one blood
One blood, one blood, one blood, one blood
Blood, blood, blood
3.Wouldn't Get Far
You wouldn't get far
I done been around the world, been around the block
Been around hoes that fucked Biggie and 'Pac
Like Vida Guerrera, ass took her to the top
She'll give you some brains you let her throw up the Roc
Let her put on your chain, she'll throw you some cock
Picture that like Meagan Good and Jamie Foxx
Hype said it's a wrap, she still on the set
Putting oil on her likes like she Gloria Velez
She was (Eye Candy) in the XXL
Hopped off the page and on a skateboard with Pharrell
I knew she {'wouldn't get far'} cause five hundred dollars
can't get you that {'far'} how you get that {'far'}
And all these new video bitches trying to be Melissa Ford
But they don't know Melissa Ford drive a Honda Accord
She a video vixen, but behind closed doors
She do whatever it take to get to the Grammy Awards
Ha ha
{'You wouldn't get far'} Fucking them rap stars
You know who you are, put your hands up ladies
{'You wouldn't get far'} If you kept your legs closed
{'It would be just a waste of time'} But you know
{'You wouldn't get far'} Fucking them rap stars
You know who you are, I wrote this song for you
{'For you baby, I'd find you'} For you
And you, for alla y'all
For you... uhh..
Pop quiz, how many topless, black foxes
did I have under my belt, like boxers
Not to brag but, if it add up
One, two, nigga that's mad nuts
Game you mad nuts, how you gon' call out all these
bitches knowing damn well they gon' call me？
The only dream, of that ghetto prom queen
was to make it to the screen, maybe get seen
Maybe get chose by a nigga from my team
Head so good he don't ask for a pre.. nup
Now ask yourself this question, umm
Would you be with Jay-Z if he wasn't C-E-O
Would you be with F-A-B-O if he drove a Neo
Would you ride with Ne-Yo, if he was in a Geo
Well why the hell you think these bitches coming at me fo'？
But since they all fall in my palm, I take a trio
Yo
I done had my share of bitches with long hair
Short doo like Kalissa, Halle in 'Boomerang' yeah
I been around the block in the Bentley drop top
In Miami Beach when Lil' Kim was fucking with Scott
I got the scoop on Hoops, whatever the case
She'll let you spray in her face long as she Bathing Apes
And ain't nobody trying to take Beyonce from Jay
But I know a bitch named Superhead he fucked back in the day
The things niggaz do when pussy sitting on they face
Stabbed Un in the stomach
She must have had a pussy like Wonder Woman, on that superhero
shit
Fly as Gabrielle Union in the back of my six, fo'
Impala, forget the double D's
I put 'em right in your face like that model bitch Takara
And she ain't win the show but she riding in that Gallardo
That's why I fuck 'em today and forget 'em tomorrow
God damn! Y'knahmsayin？
I'm sitting back watching Kanye video
And I see the same bitch that was in the homeboy Busta Rhymes
video
Then I flip the muh'fuckin channel
Checking out my uncle Snoop Dogg video
And I see the same BITCH, that was in my video!
Y'knowhatI'msayin？
And then y'knahmsayin, to make that even mo' fucked up
I'm watching Oprah cover Hurricane Katrina
I see the same bitch on Oprah, floating away on the hood of a
Camry
That was in the nigga Lil Weezy video!
I mean DAMN! Everywhere I look
Everywhere I go I see the same hoes
Don't get mad, I'm only being real
Yeah
4.Remedy
As my daytons spin lowrider sitting low
Hitting corners so hard you could taste my rims
Rag top 6-4 henny in the passenger side
Smoking chronic just letting me ride
You would do it if my name was DRE
Second coming mothafucker throw it up for the KING OF L.A
Im known for making bitches take their clothes off
Long as im from Compton California i could never go soft
Im hard as a mothafucken ounce of raw
Dribble rock like kobe bryant bounce the ball fuck the law
Feeding my son is a must
Whip it soft, whip it hard in crack we trust
Why andrew jackson look high as fuck on the 20 G？
Answer Cocaine been around for centuries
Since im young black and rich
Im the public enemy riding the bass drum
Just Blaze got the Remedy
(Hook)
(scratching) Now-dey ('Now They'), Now-Now, Now-dey, Now-Now,
Now-dey Now Now they got Me in a Cell
I got the Remedy
(scratching) Now-dey ('Now They'), Now-Now, Now-dey, Now-Now,
Now-dey Now Now they got Me in a Cell
Aftermath got the Remedy
(scratching) Now-dey ('Now They'), Now-Now, Now-dey, Now-Now,
Now-dey Now Now they got Me in a Cell
Nigga Back up back up back up before you get your punk ass
smoked
I aint no joke G
So don't provoke me
Im from the city of angels
Where that jacob watch is a trophy
N Staring at the hollywood sign'll get your straight jacked
Where you from fool？
Better say your pro black
Cause walking in roscoes with your chain hanging
Its like juliane trying to get rid of the gang bangers
Now that Pac past trying to put us on death row get ready for
the aftermath
I run through the city like godzilla
Doing more damage than ice t when he dropped cop killa
Pull a shotty out the trunk of the chevy
There go another victim of a 1-8-7
Whos the gream reaper with your life in his hand
Even the toughest niggas run when my gun go blammm
So kick back and watch the bitches dance N.W.A is back now let
me see your
Mothafucken hands
(Hook)
(scratching) Now-dey ('Now They'), Now-Now, Now-dey, Now-Now,
Now-dey Now Now they got Me in a Cell
I got the Remedy
(scratching) Now-dey ('Now They'), Now-Now, Now-dey, Now-Now,
Now-dey Now Now they got Me in a Cell
Aftermath got the Remedy
(scratching) Now-dey ('Now They'), Now-Now, Now-dey, Now-Now,
Now-dey Now Now they got Me in a Cell
Nigga Back up back up back up before you get your punk ass
smoked
Im back by popular demand N so
All black interior on a cherry red 6-4
Niggaz endin they career trying to shut me up
Acting like i traded in my khakis for a button up
The west coast still dippin
Game still bloodin'
N snoop still crippin
So what you saying loc
Red and blue bandana tied in a knot
As i creep through the chronic smoke
They say it aint good weed if you don't choke
Shit got my head spinning like the 100 spokes
3-Wheelin through the neighborhood
System on blast as the mothafucken one time pass
The key to drive bys is aim steady
Turn that bape hoody into mothafucken confetti
(Acapella)
When u cross that enemy line
Close your eyes parental dizcretion is advized
Lyricist：Marsha Ambrosius, Paul Ambrosius, Nasir Jones, Norbert
Sloley, J Smith, Jayceon Taylor
I'm, I'm with you
I'm, I'm with you
To everybody who knows my story
To all of those who came before me
My time is now, I'm gonna do it all over again
Ain't nothin' new, ain't 'bout to change
I'm still gonna do it my way, yeah, I still remain
So tell me why you hate the game？
So tell me why you hate the game？
Y'all know what it is
The streets named me Illmatic
But yet, I'm still at it, yeah haters
Felon, fights behind me on the intersection
Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection
Dress superb, admired by conspirists
Who wanna try me but ain't high enough to 45 me up
Child of the '80s, y'all niggas is lazy
Complainin' 'bout labor pains, nigga, show me the baby
And my nigga Game, light another L, pass the bottle
Pro-black, I don't pick cotton out aspirin bottle
Yeah, I learned my lessons and heard y'all snitchin'
Witnessin' you rockin wit Narcs, confirmed my suspicion
Green fatigues on, my niggas, I'll bleed for 'em
I can show 'em the water but can't make 'em drink it
And I can show them my fortunes but can't force 'em to think
rich
And still I wanna board 'em
Wonderin' if they sink quick
Ignore the ignorance, I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge
And pray the Feds let Murder Inc. live
To everybody who knows my story
To all of those who came before me
My time is now, I'm gonna do it all over again somehow
Ain't nothin' new, ain't 'bout to change
I'm still gonna do it my way, yeah, I still remain
So tell me why you hate the game？
Oh, no, no, no, I'm stuck here with just because
So tell me why you hate the game？
I don't talk about my guns, nigga, I Just Blaze
Oh, this time, I do it better just because
'Pac is watchin', B.I.G. is listenin'
While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin'
To every nigga listenin', I was supposed to be
Amongst kings, my mom shouted out at my christenin'
And while you still listenin', Shyne locked in a manhole
And Cam got shot inside his Lambo, it's ample
Life is a gamble, 15 years old, red rag around my head
My sisters used to laugh and call me Rambo
Seen Eazy's legacy melt away like a candle
I rekindled the flame, Dre created The Game
Nigga Wit a Attitude from the cloth, I came
Young homie ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain
Keep the crown, clown, I rock a L.A. Dodger fitted
Showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down wit it
Now the ball's in my court, never dribble out of bounds wit it
Behind the back to Nas, he alley oop to Jigga, nigga
To everybody who knows my story
To all of those who came before me
My time is now, I'm gonna do it all over again somehow
Ain't nothin' new, ain't 'bout to change
I'm still gonna do it my way, yeah, I still remain
So tell me why you hate the game？
Oh, no, no, no, I'm stuck here with just because
So tell me why you hate the game？
Oh, this time, I do it better just because
Check it, me and Nasty puffin', it's a classic, trust me
How he gon' pass the dutchie to them niggas that don't love me
I'm talkin' niggas that never wanted to see me on top
Same niggas that never wanted to see 'The Doctor's Advocate'
drop
Flop, I think not, I fuck you rap niggas like virgins
Dre took my trainin' wheels off, it's curtains
I don't need no encore, no claps, no cheers
The Game ain't over, this the beginnin' of my career
The endin' of yours, the endin' of his
Like Flavor Flav's clock, I'm back to handle my biz
Nigga, it's Game time, that was Dre's favorite line
Back when Proof was in the booth and I recited his lines
And I still think about my nigga from time to time
Make me wanna call 50 and let him know what's on my mind
But I just hold back 'cause we ain't beefin' like that
He ain't B.I.G. and I ain't 'Pac
And we just eatin' off rap, one love
To everybody who knows my story
To all of those who came before me
My time is now, I'm gonna do it all over again somehow
Ain't nothin' new, ain't 'bout to change
I'm still gonna do it my way, yeah, I still remain
So tell me why you hate the game？
Oh, no, no, no, I'm stuck here with just because
So tell me why you hate the game？
Oh, this time, I do it better just because
It ain't over, ladies and gentleman
I go by the name of the one and only, Just Blaze
I got a couple people in the house with me
Usually we do this at the beginning
But we gon' do it at the end this time
I wanna take you to church real quick
So I'ma need some help, I need some people up
I need 1500 or nothin' up here wit me
The wonderfully talented Marsha Ambrosia's from Floetry
Ah, yeah there we go
The sun is shinin' down on us right now
We feelin' real good, we know y'all do too
So if you feelin' good, sing along, clap along, stomp along
Catch a lil' Holy Ghost
And if you ain't feelin' good, God willin'
By the end of this record, He gon' change all that
Ayo, Lorenz, you ready？ There it is, pass me them drumsticks
Alright everybody, please join in
Your life ain't good, you can get it right
Take this opportunity to do so
And I'ma let it do what it do
Rest in peace to Georgia Elliott, here we go
And the sun shines with you
And the sun shines with you
And the sun shines with you
I wanna thank everybody for comin' out
God bless, one love, good night
Or good day if you on the other side of the globe
Yo, Just, we on the move with this shit, 'Doctor's Advocate'
See you on the third album, hate it or love it
And the sun shines with you
And the sun shines with you
And the sun shines with you
...
Lyricist：Scott Storch, Jayceon Taylor
Pull the rag off the 6 4
Hit the switch, show niggaz how the shit go
The Game is back, the Aftermath chain is gone
The D's is chrome, the frame is black
So watch it lift up 'til the motherfucker bounce and break
And knock both of the screws out the license plate
Let the games begin
These other rap niggaz so far behind me, nigga taste my rims
Let the chronic burn as the Dayton spin
It ain't been this much drama since I first heard Eminem
'In Da Club', poppin' X pills like M＆M's
Call it 'Dre Day', we celebratin', bitch, bring a friend
Bottles on me, tell the waiter to order another round
And put that cheap-ass Hypnotiq down
Put your Cris' up if you feel the same way
Who got a mill switches？ Everybody, let's ride
If I could fit the whole hood in the club
Hop in the lowrider, long as it got bitches in the back
I turn into a strip club
Call it a lap dance, when the 6 4 bounce that ass
If I could fit the whole world in the club
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the West Coast in this bitch
Pop bottles and twist up
Roll up chronic and hash in a blunt, call it Aftermath
Somebody tell me where the drinks at, where the bitches at？
You fuckin' on the first night？ Meet me in the back
I got a pound of chronic and a gang of freaks
Move bitch, who the fuck you think they came to see？
The protégé of the D R E
Take a picture with him and you gotta fuck me
And you gotta fuck Busta, can't touch Eve
Got somethin' on my waist, say 'You can't touch Eve'
That's my gangsta bitch and like Crips and Bloods
I'm in the club on some gangsta shit
So nigga, twist up, light another dub
Bitches get scared when niggaz start fightin' in the club
'Ain't Nuthin' But A G Thang', baby, it's a G thang
Bounce like you got hydraulics in your G-string
I fuck a different bitch seven days a week
Hit the switch, watch it bounce like a Scott Storch beat
If I could fit the whole hood in the club
Hop in the lowrider, long as it got bitches in the back
I turn into a strip club
Call it a lap dance, when the 6 4 bounce that ass
If I could fit the whole world in the club
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the West Coast in this bitch
Pop bottles and twist up
Roll up chronic and hash in a blunt, call it Aftermath
Niggaz thought I wasn't comin' back, look at me now
Hoppin' out the same cherry 6 4 with the motherfuckin' top down
I'm The Game, nigga, call your bitch
She ain't home, she with Game, nigga
Remember that, Dre？ You passed me the torch
I lit the chronic with it, now the world is my ashtray
Ridin' three-wheel motion 'til the ass scrapes
Turn Sunset into a motherfuckin' drag race
Now watch it bounce, hit the switch
Let it bounce 'til the police shut the shit down
When you hit the club, tell 'em you came with me
We gon' twist up in the V.I.P.
It's a new day and if you ever knew Dre
Motherfucker, you would say I was the new Dre
Same Impala, different spokes
Same chronic, just a different smoke
If I could fit the whole hood in the club
Hop in the lowrider, long as it got bitches in the back
I turn into a strip club
Call it a lap dance, when the 6 4 bounce that ass
If I could fit the whole world in the club
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the West Coast in this bitch
Pop bottles and twist up
Roll up chronic and hash in a blunt, call it Aftermath
Lyricist：Delmar Arnaud, Ricardo Brown, David Drew, Jayceon Taylor
J shit, what we do, what we do？ Bang
Look, nigga, listen
You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
If you in the club with ice on, we takin' off
I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
What？ Sh-sh-shake it off or get banged on
Gettin' my bang on, red strings on
Louis Vuitton kicks, Louis Vuitton frames on
Louis Vuitton belt holdin' the 45
You know who I am, bitch, I'm Mr. Westside
This West West or nothin', get your pistols, get your flag
Gangstas, we love to sag, we cock it back and blast
Like booyaka booyaka, we lay the party down
G-G-Game, Dogg Pound, everybody get down
Look, nigga, I nurture and breed
I ain't never gave a fuck about a bitch's needs
And bitch niggaz try to invade our town
I'ma lay 'em down, spray the 'K and get out
Say goodbye to the '64, hello to the '6-trey
He ain't never seen hydraulics, look at his bitch face
Up, down, now watch my shit scrape
Daz call Snoop, I'ma Crip walk to get Dre
And Blood bounce back, heat on the track
Dribble rock like Wade and bounce like Shaq
Throw a O in the pot and watch it bounce right back
Like that, like that？ Like that
You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
If you in the club with ice on, we takin' off
I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
What？ Sh-sh-shake it off or get banged on
We street connected, respected, I gets pathetic
When I did it, I must admit it, so nigga, go and rep it
Lil' homies around here constantly on smash mode
Lil' niggaz with pistols that blowin' out your asshole
Bang, how we give it, the culture that we live in
Fresh out the hospital or fresh out the prison
Real niggaz for life, the roots of the G tree
N.W.A., Dr. D R E
We not S T A R's, we don't put stars in our shoes
Bitch, we put the whole car on the shoes
You don't wanna see my car on the news
I'll 'Set It Off' like Queen Latifah, red beam on the nina
Bang out, chippin' in traffic, dippin' the classic
Dippin' to classics, whoopin' that ass
It's hood, niggaz ready to get it, your bitch can get it
'Cause I know she'll suck a dick in less than a minute
Cuz, I'ma have to show him where the house at
Two milli macks, it's a semi-automatic situational attack
In the back with a sack, Cadillac all black
Like this and like that
Bang, broken like glass and plastic
Bang out on him with the mask and plastic
We got access to massive plastiques
Purchased last week, DPG, C, bang
You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
If you in the club with ice on, we takin' off
I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
What？ Sh-sh-shake it off or get banged on
Here come them outta town niggaz, what up, Blood？
What up, cuz？ They don't even know what 2Pac first album was
Should I tell 'em, Blood？ Nah, fuck 'em, loc
Me and Kurupt three-wheelin' on the hundred spokes
Dash, brake, bounce and scrape
Run up on the '64, see the AK's
Bang like Eazy, bang like Dre
Bang like Snoop, bang in L.A.
Bang like Crips and Bloods
From now on, wear a Bathing Ape hoodie, get stripped in the club
Like a bitch in the club, watch him strip in the club
You like ice creams？ Get a banana split in the club
No jewelry, you can't wear shit in the club
And that go for every nigga and bitch in the club
So you better take it off 'fore you get in the club
Game and Dogg Pound along side sittin' on dubs, remember that
You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
If you in the club with ice on, we takin' off
I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
What？ Sh-sh-shake it off or get banged on
8.Compton
Lyricist：Will Adams, Arlandis Hinton, Curtis Mayfield, Jayceon Taylor,
Jesse Bonds Jr. Weaver, David Weldon, Andre Wicker, Eric Wright
Gangsta Boogie, Gangsta Boogie, Gangsta Boogie
Nigga, nigga, nigga, I'm from Compton
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Where the cops is crooked and them bitches is killers
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas
Where the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Nigga, nigga, nigga, I'm from Compton
Yeah, The Game on fire, check the gold wires
Hip hop on lock like some muh'fuckin' pliers
Me and Will.I.Am, yeah, we take niggaz higher
Niggaz talkin' shit, get your fuckin' mouth wired
Walkin' through Compton, Eazy still alive
Raider hat to the back, throw your dubs in the sky
My floetry wicked, sit back while I kick it
And do it like Dre did it, N.W.A. did it
I cook crack like the first nigga that ever bought a brick
From a ese, nigga, I could write a essay
About all the gangsta niggaz that I seen lowridin'
In they Chevys with a bitch ridin' shotgun, reppin' L.A.
Crips, Bloods, homes goin' loco
My glock to me is like Ice Cube and Yo-Yo
Sittin' in a low-low on chrome spinners
Nobody drop nuttin' this winter, nigga, I'm from Compton
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Where the cops is crooked and them bitches is killers
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas
Where the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Nigga, nigga, nigga, I'm from Compton
Nigga, I smoke chronic, ain't shit changed
Since Young MC and Eazy-E was rappin' 'We All In The Same Gang？'
Some niggaz chain hang, other niggaz gang bang
I do both 'cause I'm the king of the motherfuckin' West Coast
Kick the door open, Will, let's go
Flow like Esco', New York niggaz say I'm the best, yo
Hard like Timbos, blowin' on endo
Niggaz try to play me, get stretched out like a limo
I was shoppin' crack when Dre was bangin' my demo
And all you old niggaz is washed up like N.O.
Don't take it the wrong way, I got love for my kinfolk
Can I get a moment of silence？ Will, bang the instrumental
I spit for my niggaz in the line-up
That'll never see the sun again, so I close my blinds up
First album, sold 'em out, Impalas, rolled 'em out
'Cause the whole motherfuckin' world wanna know about Compton
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Where the cops is crooked and them bitches is killers
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas
Where the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Nigga, nigga, nigga, I'm from Compton
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Where the cops is crooked and them bitches is killers
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas
Where the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Nigga, nigga, nigga, I'm from Compton
Welcome to the city of G's
Where we eat fried chicken, rice and black-eyed peas
Fans got us Interscope, like Jimmy Lovine
'Cause we 'Ruthless' like Will before Black Eyed Peas
Fuck all rappers, look at all the hate I see
I'm sick, you can't get rid of me, I'm HIV
Nigga, get another job, hip hop is not hirin'
I'm the reason Dre feel comfortable retirin'
I just might put out 'Detox' myself
Smoke so much, I check in detox myself
One man army, took out Reeboks myself
45 in my khakis, gotta watch my health
I'm so hard, nigga, glock 17, quick draw nigga
Like the old me, 17, sippin' malt liquor
All black khaki suit, all black Converse
Nigga, I'ma keep on stompin', comin' 'Straight Outta Compton'
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Where the cops is crooked and them bitches is killers
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas
Where the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Nigga, nigga, nigga, I'm from Compton
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
The Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Where the cops is crooked and them bitches is killers
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas
Where the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie
Nigga, nigga, nigga, I'm from Compton
Lyricist：Mike Chavarria, Walter Howard, Denaun M Porter, Jayceon
Terrell Taylor
I know you're sick and tired of waitin' on me, girl
But I'm just tryin' to get my money right
Soon as I'm done, we can take a flight
So I can take you all around the world
Planes, trains, automobiles
Bentley or a Range, chromed out wheels
First class ticket, G 4, you that deal for real
I can take you all around the world
She like black Bentley Coupes, Black Daytons
Black interior, black ridin' shotgun
Black 4.5, black Air Ones
Bangin' the 'Black Album', track number 1
She like that Jay shit, that's her favorite
If it's gonna get me the pussy, I'ma play that shit
If she bite too hard, I'ma say that shit
But don't bite me, bitch, I don't play that shit
Marques Houston, I don't play that shit
By the time we got half way through watchin' 'Ray', I hit
I laid it down, beat it up, let her go clean it up
Take a five minute nap, wake up and eat it, but
Then there's part two in the sauna
Feel like I'm fuckin' Mary J, 'cuz she don't want no drama
I'd rather take your ass to the Bahamas
Than give you 30,000 a month like Diddy baby mama
I know you're sick and tired of waitin' on me, girl
But I'm just tryin' to get my money right
Soon as I'm done, we can take a flight
So I can take you all around the world
Planes, trains, automobiles
Bentley or a Range, chromed out wheels
First class ticket, G 4, you that deal for real
I can take you all around the world
Picture me thuggin', picture me lovin' you
Like Bobby love Whitney, now picture me fuckin'
Pullin' your ponytail, smackin' you on the ass
Tellin' you how I can take you all around the world
That nigga can't do it like this
Even Beyonce couldn't move it like this
She only fuck with 'Soldiers', that's her shit
I hate to admit it but I love my bitch so much
I'm sittin' outside in the Benz
Thinkin' back to Dre's house when I fucked her best friend
The pussy wasn't nothin', now I'm dealin'
With the diary of a mad black woman with Louis Vuitton luggage
She told me she was tired of The Game and rap
Quit like Ma$e, then she came right back
I told you the bitch sex was whack
And you're all I need, even Jamie know that
I know you're sick and tired of waitin' on me, girl
But I'm just tryin' to get my money right
Soon as I'm done, we can take a flight
So I can take you all around the world
Planes, trains, automobiles
Bentley or a Range, chromed out wheels
First class ticket, G 4, you that deal for real
I can take you all around the world
You know what they say, more money, more problems, more drama
Means more marijuana and less baby mama
You know I love you like I love my shoes
But even white Air Force Ones come in twos
Yeah, I like her and I like you too
What's wrong？ She my bitch and you my boo
She got a Range Rover Sport, you got a Bentley Coupe
She take my clothes to the cleaners, you take Harlem to school
I gave her your birthday bag, so I made a mistake
And Oprah don't fuck with it no more anyway
I'm sorry for the bullshit I put you through
But I ain't goin' nowhere, I got a kid with you
Why we always got to argue about Superhead's book？
She suck my dick with a condom on, after that, I shook
And when she start talkin' about buyin' a ring
I just turn the volume up and let Jamie Foxx sing
I know you're sick and tired of waitin' on me, girl
But I'm just tryin' to get my money right
Soon as I'm done, we can take a flight
So I can take you all around the world
Planes, trains, automobiles
Bentley or a Range, chromed out wheels
First class ticket, G 4, you that deal for real
I can take you all around the world
Around the world with me, baby
Around the world with me
Around the world with me
Lyricist：Calvin Broadus, Alvin Joiner, Jonathan Rotem, Jayceon Taylor
West Coast, The Doctor's Advocate
Get a blunt, roll the weed, light it up, nigga
Sippin' on 'Gin ＆ Juice', fill up your cups, nigga
The West Coast back crackin' like it's '94
So bitch, get on your knees and give me head like it's '94
And don't come up for air 'til the beat drop
I'm the Doctor's Advocate
Call it a sneak peak at the motherfuckin' 'Detox'
Take note, grab a pen
And let the world know the West is ridin' again
I graduated from Dre school, top of my class
Treat my switches like my bitches, got 'em droppin' that ass
Still bangin' 'The Chronic' like 'Doggystyle' came with it
And I roll up sticky on my bitch back while I hit it
I done been there, done that, had beefs and won that
5 million records on one plaque, I hung that
Still got Dr. Dre lowridin' in the '64
When you see us, throw it up for the fuckin' West Coast
My heart beat for the West Coast
We grow the best weed on the West Coast
We lowride on the West Coast
So I'ma die throwin' up the West Coast
My heart beat for the West Coast
We grow the best weed on the West Coast
Still lowridin' on the West Coast
You should take a trip and visit the West Coast
Check game, I'ma show you how to bang
Uncle Snoopy, is it true you from that 20 gang？
All the time, neph', I gotta let my nuts hang
A chest full of chains, left hand with a pinky ring
I'm in a Steeler cap, Swisher Sweet, peel 'em back
My lil' hoodrat, baby got that mini mac
Baby got that twenty sack, baby got plenty that
Whatever you send us, my nucca, we gon' send it back
I'm in the club with the snub gettin' love
With 20,000 'Rips and 20,000 Bloods
And we don't give a fuck about none of y'all
And when you hit the city, you better holla at the Bigg Dogg
I done seen niggaz hit L.A. and get they chain snatched
Then they call me up beggin' me to get they chain back
What I look like, the motherfuckin' police？
There's certain rules you got to follow when you in these
streets
Especially when it comes to this Cali shit
And I ain't talkin' 'bout hangin' in the valley, bitch
Gangbang niggaz all up in the alley Crip
On some real talk nigga, we the real ones
My heart beat for the West Coast
We grow the best weed on the West Coast
We lowride on the West Coast
So I'ma die throwin' up the West Coast
My heart beat for the West Coast
We grow the best weed on the West Coast
Still lowridin' on the West Coast
You should take a trip and visit the West Coast
I heard the blue rag niggaz ain't fuckin'
With the red rag niggaz on the West Coast, fuck you mean？
Shit, from what I seen, red and blue can make green
Black Wall Street and X only
Since jealousy breeds hatred, hatred breeds violence
Violence breeds enemies, more permanent silence
California alliance, it's more important than ever
So throw it up, we lowridin' together, yeah
Make the West Coast rise forever
Ese's, B's and C's, represent your letter
Got Game, the go getter, Xzibit, the rhyme spitter
Snoop Dogg, the boss, we gangsta at all costs
Y'all niggaz is so soft and pussy, so fuck off
'Fore one of my niggaz draw that hammer and dump off
It's kush, you gon' cough, kid, inhale the smoke
Bandanna hang, bang the Coast, my nigga
My heart beat for the West Coast
We grow the best weed on the West Coast
We lowride on the West Coast
So I'ma die throwin' up the West Coast
My heart beat for the West Coast
We grow the best weed on the West Coast
Still lowridin' on the West Coast
You should take a trip and visit the West Coast
West Coast, West Coast, West Coast
Lyricist：Ervin Pope, Jayceon Taylor
Walkin' down the street in my All Stars
In my khaki suit, doin' what I do
Walkin' down the street, smokin' ＊＊＊
In my black locs, lookin' at you
Guess who's back on the West Coast tracks？
It's the ＊＊＊ messiah of gangsta rap
Still dip in the six fo', still puffin' on the same ＊＊＊
Haters mad 'cause I still got it
I never fall off, even without the Doc
You ＊＊＊ sellin' your soul tryin' to stay on top
＊＊＊, check your Kotex
You ＊＊＊ ain't movin' ＊＊＊ like the hand on a fake ＊＊＊ Rolex
I'm five million sold, the cover of my last album
The only time you see me sittin' on gold
I'm the most anticipated, most celebrated
Most loved and the ＊＊＊ most hated
Keep rollin' like gold Daytons
＊＊＊ got the game ＊＊＊ up like Hennessey with a Coke chaser
You gotta deal with me, I'm the West Coast savior
＊＊＊ think of me every time they six fo' scraper
What do you call a ＊＊＊ who's overbearin'
Belligerent, foul, defiant and very disrespectful？
You call that ＊＊＊ the Doctor's Advocate
He's a reflection of Dr. Dre in his hay day in the worst way
The five star surgeon general
Took Jayceon to the Aftermath Research Department
And gave him a blood test
It came back 'G A M E Positive'
The n＊＊＊ infected with the game virus
His oratorical skills are so impeccable
That ＊＊＊ in the streets call him Cyrus
The young don who is down with violence
'Cause in his heart, he's a tyrant
It's not a game, it's just called The Game
There'll be no referees, no halftime reports
When the game is over, The Game is over
You can't put a quarter in the machine
And get three mo' min', that's the end
I'll walkin' down the street in my All Stars
In my khaki suit, doin' what I do
Walkin' down the street, smokin' ＊＊＊
In my black locs, lookin' at you
I done been to Hell and back
Left for dead, you know who to thank for that
Finished my second LP without a Dr. Dre track
You can take my soul but can't take my plaques
I'm the ＊＊＊ snare when it touch the beat
I'm the 808 drum that got you movin' your feet
I'm the heir to the throne after the D R E
Product of my environment
You old ＊＊＊ get ready for your early retirement
Before I let hip hop burn down
I run in the building like a fireman
Who can out spit me when I'm high off ＊＊＊？
Throwin' back Patron shots in some creased up Dickies
I'm D.O.C. certified, Ice Cube 'Lynch'd' me
Snoop stamped me and the good Doc handpicked me
You still with me？ Me and my mic
Can't be separated like Interscope and hahahaha
Oh ＊＊＊, this some good ＊＊＊
That California ＊＊＊
This is the aftermath for the Aftermath
West Coast
Lyricist：Tony Cottrell, Jayceon Taylor
Ol' English, ridin' by, gettin' high
Smokin' on that chronic, drinkin' Ol' English
Rags tied, gang sign
Letters on my hat in Ol' English, drive-by, homicide
'R.I.P.' tats in Ol' English, Westside 'til I die
Niggaz pourin' out that Ol' English
Once upon a time in the projects, yo
I watched my Uncle Greg put D's on a '64
I washed it on Monday, so he bought me a gold chain
Shopped crack and watched 'Colors', so I soaked up game
Drove the Impala on his lap, that was my role model
Used to let me kill the corner of his 40 ounce bottle
On the weekend, him and my Pops flashed a 'Vette
Til' one weekend my uncle got stabbed to death
He got murdered by a fiend, my Pops ain't like that
He was from Nutty Block, they used to call him Maniac
Crazy ass nigga with a Black Panther tat
Kill a nigga, cross him out on his Compton hat
Told me when I got older, I would understand that
It's blood in, blood out and there ain't no turnin' back
Few summers went by and we moved across the tracks
13, that's when I had my first
Ol' English, ridin' by, gettin' high
Smokin' on that chronic, drinkin' Ol' English
Rags tied, gang sign
Letters on my hat in Ol' English, drive-by, homicide
'R.I.P.' tats in Ol' English, Westside 'til I die
Niggaz pourin' out that Ol' English
I was the first nigga with a Starter jacket on the block
Used to build model cars and make the motherfuckers hop
Moms banged Hoover Crip, she was known for sellin' rocks
Let me collect the 40 ounce bottles in the dope spot
Bought my first Converse, thought I couldn't be stopped
When I creased up my khakis and threw on my Ronnie Lott
Used to think that I was hard, so I stole my brother's glock
And that's the day my life changed 'cause that night he got shot
Killed by another Crip over his Rolex watch
I got high for three years off that 'Chronic' from the Doc
I was drinkin' 40 ounces a lot
And every liquor store in Compton sold out the day Eazy dropped
I start bangin' red laces in my Adidas
Drinkin' out a brown paper bag on my first drive-by
I was a menace to society
But I never left finger prints on my
Ol' English, ridin' by, gettin' high
Smokin' on that chronic, drinkin' Ol' English
Rags tied, gang sign
Letters on my hat in Ol' English, drive-by, homicide
'R.I.P.' tats in Ol' English, Westside 'til I die
Niggaz pourin' out that Ol' English
I got a lotta dead homies, some Blood, some Crip
This is life, stop watchin' that 'Boyz N The Hood' shit
You see this red rag hangin' outta my jeans
I went to 20 funerals by the age of 19
Then I went to college, basketball was my dream
Quit the team 'cause I'd rather shoot rock with the fiends
Wanted to be Freeway Rick
He showed me how to turn a stolen 5.0 into a brick
Bought a Cadillac, thought I was rich, bangin' DJ Quik
On Crenshaw, got jacked for my shit
Took a long chronic hit and thought about the time
When I was 12 years old and I emptied my first clip
Hit my first switch, same night fucked my first bitch
Thought I was dreamin' 'til I pinched her tits
She caught a stray bullet ridin' shotgun in my shit
So I got her name tatted in
Ol' English, ridin' by, gettin' high
Smokin' on that chronic, drinkin' Ol' English
Rags tied, gang sign
Letters on my hat in Ol' English, drive-by, homicide
'R.I.P.' tats in Ol' English, Westside 'til I die
Niggaz pourin' out that Ol' English
Ol' English, Ol' English, Ol' English, Ol' English
Lyricist：Samuel Clothier Christian, David Goldsmith, Jonathan Rotem,
Trevor Smith, Jayceon Taylor, Christopher Young
I didn't mean to walk away but I hear every word they say
I guess my mind just drew a blank like la da da
Now I'm sittin' in this goddamn cage, reminiscin' about my day
With your blood all over my slade as the Devil sings la da da
Dre, I ain't mean to turn my back on you
But I'm a man and sometimes a man do what he gotta do
Remember, I'm from Compton too
I saw you and Eazy in 'em, so I started wearin' khaki suits
I was 12 smokin' chronic in '92
I had a choice be like Mike or be like you
I made a choice, now it's be Crip or be Piru
Whatever I was, I was bangin' 'Gin 'n Juice'
Never knew back then I'd be friends with Snoop
Now I gotta keep it gangsta 'cause it's in my roots
So I owe you my life, when I betrayed you
I tried to think of what the fuck Eminem might do
If every nigga hated him for the 'Black Bitch' track
And niggas stopped bumpin' Dre after DeBars got slapped
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a wrap
It's still Aftermath and there ain't nothin' after that
I didn't mean to walk away but I hear every word they say
I guess my mind just drew a blank like la da da
Now I'm sittin' in this goddamn cage, reminiscin' about my day
With your blood all over my slade as the Devil sings la da da
I never said thank you and I took for granted
You let me in your house and made me a part of your family
Now I'm eatin' with you, Eve and Busta Rhymes
I wasn't starstruck, I was just glad to be signed
And even though sometimes I run loose
You still my homeboy, Doc, I'd take a bullet for you
I'm not askin' you to take my side in the beef
But you told me it was okay to say 'Fuck Tha Police'
Now it's my turn to carry the torch
And I still got the chain that you wore on the cover of The
Source
Remember when we got drunk to do 'Start From Scratch'？
I told you you was like a father to me, I meant that
Sittin' here lookin' at my platinum placks
Thinkin' what the fuck am I without a Dr. Dre track？
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a wrap
It's still Aftermath and there ain't nothin' after that
I didn't mean to walk away but I hear every word they say
I guess my mind just drew a blank like la da da
Now I'm sittin' in this goddamn cage, reminiscin' about my day
With your blood all over my slade as the Devil sings la da da
See when the world is on your shoulders and the stress grows
bigger
The fire in 'em made it difficult to talk to the nigga
Most of the time I let 'em know I don't agree wit what he do
But he a hard head, Dre, that's why I'm talkin' to you
See, when I first met my nigga, son was layin' in the cut
Type reserve, homie was quite and kept his mouth shut
Until you told him to spit for me, he flippin' from the gut
I dug his spirit and I thought the dude was talented as fuck
And as the time went on, now he was workin' with the finest
I saw the pressure started to build, so I gave additional
guidance
You gave him somethin' that can make or break a nigga
You should face it
So big, I don't even think he was ready to embrace it
With the potential to be a strong nigga with conviction
The only problem was our lil' nigga wouldn't listen
But when Doc say it's a wrap, it's a wrap
It's still Aftermath and there ain't nothin' after that
I didn't mean to walk away but I hear every word they say
I guess my mind just drew a blank like la da da
Now I'm sittin' in this goddamn cage, reminiscin' about my day
With your blood all over my slade as the Devil sings la da da
Lyricist：Darnell Bristol, Kenny Edmonds, Sidney De Wayne Johnson,
Dominick Lamb, Jayceon Taylor
I only fuck wit'chu on two occasions
When I'm drunk, when I'm high
I would be broke if I would be with you
That is why it's fo' one night, one night
I'm a motherfuckin' gangbangin' nightmare
Wake up, motherfuckers, I traded in my white Nike Airs
For a rare pair of Converse, back to the hood
My own niggaz actin' like I turned my back on the hood
I used my rap money to put crack in the hood
Even brought the nigga Dr. Dre back to the hood
I showed niggaz the Bentley, then let you drive it
Gone for two days and I ain't even check the mileage
When we was fightin' with Crips, it wasn't about no dollars
It was about sellin' dope to put our kids through college
I'm sittin' on the block, reminiscin' for hours
Wipin' my tears 'cause now half of my niggaz is cowards
And I was still fuckin' with niggaz, after I got shot
And didn't get one hospital visit
My homey Snoop told me it'd be days like this
It hurt my heart to say this shit
I only fuck wit'chu on two occasions
When I'm drunk, when I'm high
I would be broke if I would be with you
That is why it's fo' one night, one night
Red bandanna in my back pocket, I'm for real
This ain't a pastel color khaki suit and I ain't Pharrell
I don't front about shit, I pull my gun up out shit
And let everything fly to keep my son up outta this
I thought you loved me, nigga, talk is cheap
Remember, the bullet holes in my son's car seat
My baby momma found four shells, I ain't get
One keep your head up, all I got was keep it real
Keep it real, my niggaz？
Last year alone I spent one point five mill' on my niggaz
After the bullshit, I stayed right there
Took you to award shows, there go J right there
Where？ Right there, I had all you niggaz in suits
Cleaner than a pair of fresh Nike Airs
I'm supposed to enjoy this shit but it's quite clear
The last twelve months been a fuckin' nightmare
I only fuck wit'chu on two occasions
When I'm drunk, when I'm high
I would be broke if I would be with you
That is why it's fo' one night, one night
This shit worse than arguin' with my bitch
I done been through mo' ups and downs than the Impala switch
Get yo' hand out my pocket, nigga, go fish
I was born by myself, so I don't owe y'all shit
Nigga, you tell me, what'chu want me to do
Drop my son off at home and come bang wit'chu？
Oh, now it's, â½Fuck Gameâ, nah, nigga, fuck you
I put that on my life, matter 'fact, that's on Piru
And the reality is, I could die too
And end up in the cemetery right beside you
We can both ride, angels flyin' over my head
Stoned but the Devil's inside yo' box
You wanted my shine, so I gave you ice
Then I gave you a second chance and you played me twice
Couldn't be a real homeboy to save yo' life
I shoulda took Dr. Dre's advice
I only fuck wit'chu on two occasions
When I'm drunk, when I'm high
I would be broke if I would be with you
That is why it's fo' one night, one night
Black Wall Street fo' life
I only fuck with you on two occasions
When I'm outta my mind or when I'm high
I only fuck with you
15.Da Shit
(Intro：)
Now where's the shit？
The shit？
The shit!
Nigga whatsup man？
Come on kill that noise man, let's just get the shit,
Don't worry, you'll get the shit,
You'll be,
Knee deep in shit!
(Chorus： (The Game)
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop niggas)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell
them niggas)
(Verse 1：)
I let the whole world know that I can't be stopped,
Even without Doc I'm still from the (Streets of Compton),
Yeah nigga I said it, and I'ma stay on top,
Like a hoodrat with bomb ass cock,
Run up in 'em like these rap niggas, I ain't gotta clap niggaz,
End your career with one line like that niggaz,
Hit the switch front and back, make it bounce,
Let it jump, Killa-for-ni-a is where I'm from,
3 wheelin' with the ass out, smoke chronic 'til I pass out,
All the way to my nigga Daz house,
He always gotta big bad bitch from Long Beach,
She a known freak and she gotta long reach,
She gon' touch it, suck it, fuck it, never back down,
'specially when Al Green in the background,
Now bitch hit the weed and turn that ass round,
It's time to bring back Chronic into Doggystyle,
Westcoast niggaz still holdin' shit down,
(Chorus： (The Game)
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop ＊＊＊＊＊z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell
them ＊＊＊＊＊z)
(Verse 2：)
I'm back on the cover of the Source and the XXL,
Floatin' all through the (Streets of Compton),
I got more bitches, more plaques, more beef, and more straps,
That's what the fuck I call 'Gangsta rap',
I was the Aftermath remedy 'til friends turn enemies,
Streets kept me laced like bloods dipped in hennesse,
You niggaz act like the Game can't roll 'em out,
One man show still sell a motherfucker out,
We know Dre still sell a motherfucker out,
'cus everybody here from the (Streets of Compton),
We got crip niggaz, blood niggaz, assays, asians,
Red and blue laces, tattoos on faces,
I kept you niggaz waiting had to take you back to the basics,
Switch the Impala from gold to chrome Daitons,
Everytime your bitch hear my voice she masturbating,
I run though hoes like Walter Payton on the daily,
I got your main bitch swallowing my babies,
(Chorus： (The Game)
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop niggaz)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell
them niggaz)
I'm the Westcoast Rakim, got you niggaz blocked in,
Glass house parked sideways on the stock rims,
New school, old school mentality,
Translation - Four pumps and twelve batteries,
Hydraulics make the world go round,
Your girl go down, chronic make your girl slow down,
For she end up like superhead, giving superhead,
Every nigga in the industry now fuck superhead,
And I might just fuck her too,
If I ever catch her sliding or riding through the (Streets of
Compton),
Rolling down Green Leaf smoking on that green leaf,
With a Mac 10 like I was born on Queen's Street,
Murder MCs like I was born in Queen's Bridge,
That how I show you palm niggas where the King is,
And you don't wanna play chess on a time clock,
I'm in the Hall Of Fame next to Snoop, behind 'Pac,
I got the whole motherfucking world locked,
(Chorus： (The Game)
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop niggas)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell
them niggas)
(Outro：)
Everybody wanna know what the fuck is going on,
Am I signed to Aftermath？ Interscope？ What's up with Geffen？
I'ma just say it like this：
One day I walked in the motherfuckin' house,
And all my shit was gone.
16.I'm Chillin'
You Got's To Chill
Guess who's bizzack No it ain't hypno
L.A. Dodger fitted cap with the brim low
Blowin' on endo Roll down yo window
Matter fact let the top back and watch the wind blow
Black on black lamborghini with the dizzor
Up in the air with the pedal on the flizzor
Bandana tied around the rear view mirror
Red bandana got 'em bangin' new era
Something on my waist niggas can't get near us
Bitches 'round me shakin ass like Shakira
Niggas poppin' Chrystal everytime they hear us
I stay on niggas mind like a new era.
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T
to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
Doing my two step Red strings on my louis
I don't know how to dance so don't step on my louis
Bitches on the dance floor bouncin' like a pornstar
Legs in the air like the doors on a foreign car
Post it up the bar everybody strizzap
Double game chains hanging down to my lizzap
Every nigga in my click stay iced out
Reach for a chain,red beam, turn your lights out
Shut the club down, The Game don't stop
In the parking lot, lemon lime patron shots
Looking for Ciara heard about the goodies
Hurricanes in a BlackWallStreet Hoodie
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T
to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
Everybody know when The Game in the clizzub
20 impalas outside on the dizzubs
Everything chrome from the rims to the strizzads
Panties gettin' wet everytime they see 'em lift ups
So hop in the back seat if you're a freak
Three wheel motion got 'em sliddin' on they seat
8 0 8 drums got 'em griddin' to the beat
Turn high beams on bring the club to the streets
If you jump off niggas know what I'm about
Million dollar man bring the drama to yo house
Hommies outside, Wearing that ass out
I'm gettin' a lap dance, Smoking chronic on your couch
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T
to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I'm chillin' in the house
Rollin' in the car
Coolin' in the tub
Drinkin' at the bar
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T
to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'.
17.Scream On 'Em
Homey, it's hard not to kill ＊＊＊ it's like a full time job
Not to pull out the ＊＊＊ and shove it in your grill
Young California got that mass appeal
I summons the hood, they get up in your ＊＊＊ for real
Knockout flow, Winky Wright jab for real
And all you ＊＊＊ need Massengill
See I'm the ＊＊＊, one shot'll lift 'em off the ground
Chop 'em down like a cantaloupe, my flow the antidote
Sick flow, it's so ＊＊＊ 6 4
Your ＊＊＊ know, hop in the back when you see Swizz
Diss that, all you ＊＊＊ get up off my ＊＊＊ so
I can cook ＊＊＊ on the track and watch it mix slow
＊＊＊ my flow fire, call it propane
Every ＊＊＊ know Game, five ＊＊＊ no pain
And that's the reason why I'm ＊＊＊ on you ＊＊＊
Shut me in the loony bin, I'm sicker than you ＊＊＊
This is that disrespectful, ＊＊＊ West Coast
Hip hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go
This is that disrespectful, ＊＊＊ West Coast
Hip hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go
Where I'm from, I seen the most stand up ＊＊＊ lay down
Where skinny ＊＊＊ make buff ＊＊＊ victims of that ＊＊＊ pound
And ＊＊＊ is the sharp ＊＊＊, we don't need no rooftops
Just knock his ＊＊＊ down and take the money out his tube socks
West Coast ＊＊＊ is back on the map
If only for now until the next time I ＊＊＊ a track
From the first clap I hurt rap, now watch the earth crack
Bring the hearse back and take a lyrical dirt nap
I roll with the hardest ＊＊＊ make money with the smartest ＊＊＊
I ain't got time for you ＊＊＊ artist ＊＊＊
Better shut your trap before you become a target
Y'all army brats, I'm the ＊＊＊ sergeant
Beauty pageant ＊＊＊ on the runway
'Boyz N The Hood' 'til they see the ＊＊＊ in that red Hyundai
Blow his ＊＊＊ back out 'cause I'm the rap Stackhouse
Black Wall Street, ＊＊＊ the hip hop ＊＊＊ house, what？
This is that disrespectful, ＊＊＊ West Coast
Hip hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go
This is that disrespectful, ＊＊＊ West Coast
Hip hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go
My flow opposite of handsome, it's ugly
Hip hop tantrum, sick, call the ＊＊＊ cancer
One man show 'cause I ＊＊＊ all the dancers
Let the critics ask questions, my album be the answer
These ＊＊＊ let the rumors sit in they head like tumors
So I had to take 'em back, toothbrush on the Pumas
Clean, mean, rappin' machine
Red rag hangin' low in the back of my jeans
I black out like February, back out what's necessary
0 7 Bugatti with Jimmy Lovine's secretary
I'm runnin' the buildin', don't make me run in the buildin'
No, this ain't the first time I had my ＊＊＊ in the buildin'
Walkin' past offices, I see my son in the buildin'
Last album on the wall, I'm number one in the buildin'
They should build me an office up under the buildin'
My elevator goin' down, I am done in the buildin'
This is that disrespectful, ＊＊＊ West Coast
Hip hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go
This is that disrespectful, ＊＊＊ West Coast
Hip hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go
We in the ＊＊＊ buildin', man
You ain't got your ＊＊＊ mind right？
You gon' get your mind blown out
Your ＊＊＊ mind right ＊＊＊ wassup？
It is what the ＊＊＊ it is, man
How y'all wanna cut the cake？
You touch this, you get your hands cut off
Swizz Beatz, the ＊＊＊ monster
Game is in the ＊＊＊ buildin'
We could turn this whole ＊＊＊ world red
18.Too Much
I'm from the old hood, somethin' like your hood
Where ＊＊＊ don't know good
Or know Suge, but the ＊＊＊ good
So we rock it like Tracy McGrady
Send it to Houston in a gray Mercedes
I'm a product of my environment, grew up in the '80s
So that mean, me, Kanyeezy and Young Jeezy, all ＊＊＊ babies
And it's evident my flow is heaven sent
First LP on the same shelf as the veterans
I can't be ＊＊＊ like a ＊＊＊
I'm to hip hop what Cartoon is to Mexicans
I'm a artist, never claimed to be the hardest
Just number one since B.I.G. and 'Pac departed
Nate ridin' with me, Snoop ridin' with me
All you other ＊＊＊ used to be good like Ken Griffey
I'm on fire like the tip of a ＊＊＊
On fire like a ＊＊＊ that let it drip for a month
I'm a ＊＊＊ you can ＊＊＊ if you want, just let it bump
Like you got Scott Storch tied up in the trunk
I'm the ice cream truck man, ＊＊＊ in the trunk man
＊＊＊ in the trunk man, call me the front man
Too much Cris' in the club not to get drunk
Too many ＊＊＊ in the world not to ＊＊＊
Too much ＊＊＊ in the studio not to roll it up
And too much bass in the trunk, so let it bump
You look like you mad as ＊＊＊ but who cares？
Grabbin' her by the arm 'cause she stare
Don't know how much attention you pay
You better be ready to die in this game
I thought I told y'all I'm done with the beef, clown
My son three now
And I've been watchin' Dre so long, I'm makin' beats now
Game on the rebound like Ben Wallace in the D-Town
I mean Chi-Town, ＊＊＊ it, it can go down
＊＊＊ I spit the whole round, fo' plus fo' pounds
＊＊＊ this the Wild Wild West, call it a showdown
And I'm Billy the Kid 'til they split my wig
I come back from the dead, tell 'em ＊＊＊ me again
Put my head on the ＊＊＊, dare a ＊＊＊＊
I'm gangsta, took more ＊＊＊ than Tookie
I'm alive, so I'ma take a Patron shot for Tookie
Roll a California ＊＊＊ and keep watchin' the movie
Inspired by this ＊＊＊ since I was two
I brought the West Coast back, what the ＊＊＊ you do？
I'm the ice cream truck man, ＊＊＊ in the trunk man
＊＊＊ in the trunk man, call me the front man
Too much Cris' in the club not to get drunk
Too many ＊＊＊ in the world not to ＊＊＊
Too much ＊＊＊ in the studio not to roll it up
And too much bass in the trunk, so let it bump
You look like you mad as ＊＊＊ but who cares？
Grabbin' her by the arm 'cause she stare
Don't know how much attention you pay
You better be ready to die in this game
Drive fast, both hands on the dash
Close both of your eyes and hope that you don't crash
It's lyrical homicide, both airbags out
Roll the ＊＊＊ windows down, let the bass out
＊＊＊ drop the top on whatever in
＊＊＊ let your ponytail blow in the wind
Inhale the ＊＊＊ blow out dollar signs
＊＊＊ you could drive a Bentley if only in your mind
Four doors, leather and wood
Ride like I got a horse stable under my hood
And I keep a chrome ＊＊＊ under my hood
So if I die, ＊＊＊ bury me under my hood
Who had the hottest ＊＊＊ in the game, wearin' they chain？
Mr. H to the Izzo, Nas and Hurricane
Long as my family straight, read this at my wake
I gave 'em 'The Documentary' and they scraped the plate
Twenty magazine covers, ＊＊＊ look at his fate
I cannot, will not ever be replaced
'Coz I'm the ice cream truck man, ＊＊＊ in the trunk man
＊＊＊ in the trunk man, call me the front man
Too much Cris' in the club not to get drunk
Too many ＊＊＊ in the world not to ＊＊＊
Too much ＊＊＊ in the studio not to roll it up
And too much bass in the trunk, so let it bump
You look like you mad as ＊＊＊ but who cares？
Grabbin' her by the arm 'cause she stare
Don't know how much attention you pay
You better be ready to die in this game
He wolfin' a lot of ＊＊＊ he look scared
You can't find your girl, she right here
I'm not a bad dream, I'm a nightmare
'Sides there's way too many ＊＊＊ in here
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