Something to Speak About

[Verse 1: The Game] I'm Huey P. Newton with Air Force One’s on Doctor Martin Luther King with two guns on I'm one zone short of a break One chronic blunt away from a classic I'm a motherfucking bastard... literally I let my lyrics overflow on the page Until they spill on the beat I do what you niggas can’t I am what you niggas ain’t You say you an artist motherfucker then paint... That’s the base line The motivation for Jamie to play rape line... I paint pictures in my mind Imagine who dead if I see a flat line You niggas ain’t like me And it's likely that I'm Spike Lee in some coke white Nikes At the Knicks game with my legs crossed like a boss How a nigga from Compton become the talk of New York? [Hook] We been broke so long it’s so hard Hiding from behind my scars That's something to just think about... It was no dope, just hope in my heart Tired of reaching for the stars Now, I'm something you can speak about [Verse 2: Clyde Carson] Look into my eyes, ain't too much I ain't seen Except death and the penitentiary gates leave... My mark on the world 'fore I cut The artist homie spoken with the potenent brush Paint a picture of a world made up I try to be different but I'm just like them Fairy tales and fantasies of made up jims I never went as far as rocking fake ones still... The pressures of life, if that’s the career To say what they want, and not what you feel What's inside your soul is uncomfortable fear To let it out the only way you be clear Ain't been in a Lear But you can bet I rapped about it So far life good without it Strive for what's great though the hood is grounded And punishment can’t leave the block but I’m bouncing [Hook] We been broke so long it’s so hard Hiding from behind my scars That's something to just think about... It was no dope just hope in my heart Tired of reaching for the stars Now, I'm something you can speak about [Verse 3: Clyde Carson] Aye homie I’m just talking my shit Everyday hustle I’m just authoring hits Scorsese penned last puff then flick Light up and let the world hear this Sharp as the guitar that plays in the background Torn as the baton that’s passed from the playground Youngen with the slick tongue thugin' Years later, opened up the oven Years later, who knew that they love me And thank me for everyday hustling Consider me the king but I act like I don’t want it Lab rat, elaborate, rapping performance, stage is enormous Doing my gig Feeling myself like Mac D.R.E We be the best like Fat Joe DJ The ghetto to a multi-mil estate to know that... [Hook] We been broke so long it’s so hard Hiding from behind my scars Now, that's something to just think about... It was no dope just hope in my heart Tired of reaching for the stars Now, I'm something you can speak about [Outro]