THE GAME lyrics : "Still Me"
Mya
[Intro (Ikay)]
Yow! A weh di $#&@ do dem?
Black Wallstreet, Cry Nation,
Yeah!
From Kingston to Compton? Ha ha,
Yow Game! Weh yuh deh pon?
Warminister!
Ha ha? Dem fi know,
Yeah!
Game! $#&@ wid dem.
[Verse 1 (The Game)]
Straight outta the mother$#&@in pissy hallway in the projects,
To park in a four door Bentley on my set,
Same hood, same mother$#&@in steps I sat on
and took the plastic off of "Life After Death",
Bangin, boning Biggie Biggie I did a 360,
The Aftermath for that is the ^!$$% 50 ain't wit me,
No hard feelings, we both made millions,
You can hate me or love me but ^!$$% I spit real %#@!,
like I'm comatose, tell the Doc I'm sick,
Before "Detox", let me take my last chronic hit.
Now I am gangsta rap,
Inhale the weed smoke and coughed up five platinum plaques,
So I'm a let the ^!$$% Dr. Dre hit,
Next time I have dreams of $#&@in an R&B (*##$,
I don't make love, I make hits,
I put a condom on and stuff my dick in this Hip Hop %#@!.
[Chorus (Mya)]
Feels good?
Gangsta?
Still hood?
Gangsta.
[Verse 2 (The Game)]
I'm that six figure ^!$$%,
Who got the word from KRS-ONE and stole the Blueprint from Jigga,
^!$$%z yellin Game did this, Game did that,
Game ain't do %#@! but bring the mother$#&@in West Coast back,
I hear the whisperin goin on in the hood,
I sent a mother$#&@in Hallmark card to Suge,
That ^!$$% know that we all good,
So you can catch a cab to Hell wit them death threats I'm already dead,
I put the. 38 revolver to my own $#&@in head,
before I let the %#@! eat my conscience,
ain't a ^!$$% in the world could tell me I can't come thru Compton,
Before I retire my Converse, I'll ride the train thru NYC with the terrorist bombers,
Somebody tell my mama I'm crazy,
Poppa was a Rolling Stone so that makes me a crack baby,
I'm in rehab three times a week,
because I'm a mother$#&@in fiend for a Dr. Dre beat.
[Chorus (Mya)]
Feels good?
Gangsta?
Still hood?
Gangsta.
[Verse 3 (Ikay)]
Uh, Yea! Uh,
it's da mother$#&@in I dot,
Jamaica on my back,
Ten pounds of weed on my block,
Cops coming, hide that,
I'm so $#&@in blessed,
Straight off da River, so $#&@ing fresh,
Heyy!
Mi got mi chopper pon mi,
#~!!@hole! Suck yuh mother, tek yuh eyes off mi rapper money,
Got respect fi di shottas only,
Stick to the streets like cheese to macaroni,
A weh di $#&@ do dem,
Five shots, a duppy dem,
Glock innah mi hand, mi a go fi dem,
Big dog never scared ah di puppy dem,
I got no love fi dem,
Got slugs fi dem,
I be on some street %#@!,
Weed in my eyes so I can't see %#@!,
Be on some G %#@!,
Let dem ^!$$%z talk, run up on you wit da Hawk and squeeze clips,
They wanna know where da ^!$$% from,
Kingston Jamaica got dem ^!$$%z bombed,
I'm never wrong,
I am the the street mother$#&@as, here I am.
[Chorus (Mya)]
Feels good?
Gangsta?
Still hood?
Gangsta.
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