The Game – On Me Ft. Kendrick Lamar Lyrics

(Verse 1 – Game)
Back when Dot was hanging at Top’s in the Benzo
Freestyling to them Chronic instrumentals, no pens and pencils
I was out there Blooding like a menstrual
With a Backwood clinched between my dentals, way back when
When we was outside with the indo
Hotboxing rentals in front of Centennial, remedial thoughts
Never thought that I would amount to s**t
Smoke chronic, f**k bi**hes, ride around bouncing s**t
From Impalas to that Harley truck, to dish ragging bi**hes
That was hard to f**k, I came up, it was hardly luck
Just left Compton, and I ain’t have to use my AK
What a day, what a day

(Verse 2 – Kendrick Lamar)
Back when my drivers license, was baby faced and trifling
I made my way through crisis, I made my tape
And recorded portraits in front of sirens,I made you hate the vibrant
You can’t escape the tyrant, you can’t relate where I’ve been
In 98 my problem, actin’ too grown and sh*t
Capping at b**ches, yeah my religion through songs and sh*t
On me, that’s on me
Raise up, ni**a, you are not the homie
B**ch I’m well connected from my section down to Long Beach
Fumbling with Tetris if your block neglecting your ki
Everyday I wake up with my face up to my father
Making sure my heart is pure enough to grow my seed
And harvest All my king stuffing double up my plantation with dollar
Every dream is such reality, my deja vu done caught up
Bi**h I’m brought up with the homies, that’s on me
24/7, Kendrick repping these cold streets
Know we live by it, die by it, then reincarnate
And if Game told me, drive by it, I raise AK
Ain’t no shame on it, cry about it, f**k that, I’ll play
Like no name on it, blindsided, ain’t no one safe
Documentary had identities of where I’m from
Therefore my energy had to make sure the better me won
It ain’t no better one, son, it ain’t no telling me nothing
Ni**a it’s Chuck, Doc Dre and K, the legacy’s done, blaow!

(Interlude – Kendrick Lamar)
Oh man, you thought these ni**as with attitude would show gratitude
Fooled you
From 2015 to infinity it’s still bomb weed and Hennessy
I can pimp a butterfly for the energy
Game I need acapella

(Verse 3 – Game)
There I go, give me a minute, ni**a
Bout to hit a home run, K. Dot, grab the pennant, ni**a
Pin it on my Pendleton, trap late night, Jay Leno them
Got my mom a tennis bracelet, Wimbledon of Wilmington
Now can I rap for a minute? Black on the track for a minute
Look in my rhyme book, see murder like when I was a fan of No Limit
Ain’t no gimmicks round here, this Compton, me, Doc and Kendrick
Chronic, good kid, my first year, 3 documentaries
Now I’m blocking sentries, 16 Impalas
They bounce like they Iguodala
That’s on my mama, ni**as up and did me a solid
I put that on me, that’s on me
You get a bullet f**king with the lil homie
Thinking back then like f**k your rules, ni**a this is Piru
Slide through with the Erykah Badu
West side Compton, ni**a don’t mind if I do
From Piru Street to my old street
Ni**a this Compton, grew up on a dead end
Got an armful of dead friends
Round here Crips be sweating us ni**as like a headband
Like what’s up cuz
Yo dawg where you from?
No time to stop and think
Pull your strap before they do or you get shot before you blink
Straight outta Compton, 3 times I told you
The third time I said it with TDE mothaf**ka
I’ll make you eat every letter
Spoonfeed you ni**as like toddlers, from the city of Impalas
When shot callers take their pitbulls and feed them ni**as rottweilers
My clip full, I quick pull, no more slanging 8 balls on the corner
And all them ni**as I used to freestyle with, I ate y’all on the corner
Call the coroner, ni**as dead out here
Hanging onto life by a thread out here
Them ni**as wearing all that red out here
P snapbacks on ni**as heads out here
So don’t you come f**king with the little homie
So OG they call me Tony
Montana, no French, my red bandana legit
My uncle told me before he died, “Just keep your hand on the brick
So I did
Sell every chicken that a ni**a had in stock, yes I did
Walked to Compton, hot pocket full of rocks, yes I did
Skipped class, yes I did, whooped ni**as ass, yes I did
F**ked a bi**h behind the bleachers while on the rag, that’s on Bloods
Westside, that’s on Bloods, this TEC fly, that’s on Bloods
You f**k with Dot, I’ll let you choke on your blood
I put that

(Chorus – Kendrick Lamar)
On me, that’s on me
On me, that’s on me
On me, that’s on me
Raise up, ni**a you are not the homie
On me, that’s on me
On me, that’s on me
On me, that’s on me
Raise up, ni**a you are not the homie