[Verse 1: The Game]
When I exit the 110 at Compton, I start cocking shit
Halloween ain't shit when you stuck at the light with a Compton Crip
Niggas don't make it out
My grandma Lilly named me Game
But these two AK's ain't nothing to play about
I had a jumper and hoop dreams, but I couldn't wait it out
Rolled weed on my scholarship letters and took the paper route
Crips know where I stay, every other day, had to spray it out
Compton sheriffs hit the crib, I’m hiding in the neighbor's house
Moms kicked me out, had to move all my shit to David house
His moms told me pull my own weight, here, weigh it out
That water boil, take it out
Professor clumps in that mason jar
Look like I'm having a sеizure when I shake it out
In thе trap trying to focus, writing raps on the sofa
Thought the house was tapped
'Cause I can see antennas on the roaches
Niggas can't tell me nothing about being poor
Extendos on the phone cord
Pull that bitch from the kitchen to the front door
Seen one bullet put a nigga under
Seen a nigga survive a whole clip with staples from his ear to his stomach
My uncle got stabbed, fucked up a whole summer
My sister got shot in the ass, my nigga, she wasn't running
My life ain't a movie, it’s a series on Prime
I told Juan, "Feed me my own dick if I ever drop a dime"
If niggas owe me and still ain't pay me, it's never mind
It's like a Rollie on the ground, I ain't tripping over time
I ain't tripping on 50, all that shit I left behind
Ain't tripping on Interscope for that slave deal that I signed
I gave 'em five albums, it was nine
In the contract, told Berman, “Drop me or this fucking nine getting cocked back”
Been independent for ten summers, it’s like Ella Mai and Mustard
Big ass riding with me in his Hummer
Wish my nigga Vail could see me now
How you make it out of Compton and get murdered out of town?
[Chorus: Ray Vaughn]
They caught the homie slipping and ain't show him no remorse
So I walk 'round with that fire, like I'm carrying a torch
Been known to get it jumping since I hopped up off the porch
Pocket full of dead prezzies and a closet full of corpses (Hey)
Being broke, the only thing I looked at as a threat
Trials and tribulations, real and fake could never mesh
Only dotted line I ever signed was on a check
I gotta keep it on me, I got million-dollar flesh
I got the game plan
I got million-dollar views behind these Ray-Bans
They bought seats, but I'm someone that they can't stand
I'm so high above these clouds that I can't land, can't land
So please don't pray for me (Yeah)
And if I die before I wake, just save that space for me
But please don't pray for me
[Verse 2: The Game]
I done fucked a celebrity bitch for every dead homie I got
Flipped the truck off Ciroc, that shit worse than getting shot
Ain't die or get a DUI, my guardian angel Pac
He probably up there telling God, "If Chuck die, the world stop"
Not even a 20 year old Iron Mike Tyson punching my clock
Got Meek on a song after this, and he used to be my opp
But he called me on his first day out and we spoke about a lot
He said he love LA and with my blessings, he gon' buy a spot
I told him cop it by the beach, 'cause in the summer it get hot
If they can kill B.I.G., they can kill us like they did the nigga Pop
Don't trust niggas in my own state, cock it back
Play the rear view a few times before I open up my own gate
If I don't make it home safe, I told my oldest son, put C4 on that home safe
And spend it at your own pace
I'm 42, another 42, that’s gon' be home base
I'm in this shit for life, eyes are bright
I beat my own case
No matter which way the camera rotate, I choose my own fate
Pull the mask up, I ain't got COVID, I'll show my whole face
Drown all my demons and ask 'em "How this Patron taste?"
Pat me down at the club, and you gone feel that shit is on waist
It's on soon as Soulja Boy tell him to look the wrong way
50-round drums, slugs click in like a phone case
I put that on Dre, ain’t nobody gon' push me
I ain't scared of no nigga that was a baby when he came out the pussy
I bang, and I ain't never said I was T. Rogers or Tookie
But I'll shoot up a library before I let the feds book me
And this go for every nigga trapping from Columbia to Brooklyn
Put a brick in that boy face, the cartel can watch him cook it
Dig my daddy out the grave, ask that nigga where he took him
Cleveland National Forest, I hit targets without looking
So if I ever run into Pooh, nigga, I'ma finish the job
He did 25 for taking them Barkley's and killing Rob
[Chorus: Ray Vaughn]
They caught the homie slipping and ain't show him no remorse
So I walk 'round with that fire, like I'm carrying a torch
Been known to get it jumping since I hopped up off the porch
Pocket full of dead prezzies and a closet full of corpses (Hey)
Being broke, the only thing I looked at as a threat
Trials and tribulations, real and fake could never mesh
Only dotted line I ever signed was on a check
I gotta keep it on me, I got million-dollar flesh
I got the game plan
I got million-dollar views behind these Ray-Bans
They bought seats, but I'm someone that they can't stand
I'm so high above these clouds that I can't land, can't land
So please don't pray for me (Yeah)
And if I die before I wake, just save that space for me
But please don't pray for me
[Outro: Ray Vaughn]
No, no, no
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