The Game – Life Lyrics

(Intro – King Justice)
My daddy ain’t going nowhere

Whether we dribble out this motherf**ker
Wrap rock or riddle out this motherf**ker
We gon get up out this motherf**ker
Same way that Venus did, Serena did, we them kids
Whitney was talking bout that’s how it was
Before my brother caught them slugs and I watched coroners chalk him out
That ain’t my brother in that box, what ni**as talking bout?
Couldn’t Paul Bearer cause I was too weak to walk him out
And that’s real s**t, I’m dedicated
Like Pac was to Jada before Jada met Will Smith
I’m already turnt up, chronic still burnt up
F**k outta here, with all that lean and popping pills sh*t
Jump in my Impala get it hopping with a kill switch
I done been around the world, my life is like a field trip
I done been to Africa, seen ni**as in Attica
Cops killing our youth, these numbers ain’t adding up
Like that white boy sitting in a prison cell
Killed 9 people in a church, how he living still?
I couldn’t understand, I spent hours with Farrakhan
Just begging him to let me be the millionth man
But some of these ni**as just make you wanna kill a man
And let the .38 spin like a ceiling fan
Separate your body from soul, soul from Earth
Roll a blunt with your remains and then ash it in the dirt
Listen, you ain’t a Christian cause you go to church
Listen, you ain’t a gangster cause you got the work
A real gangster’s one who take care of his whole family
Like me, even though my baby mama can’t stand me
Her name tattooed on my neck, ni**a it’s branded
And my f**king kids tighter than Ray J and Brandy
Yeah, I give it to you so you understand
F**king bi**hes took my family
Bye baby, rock-a-bye baby
No tears or sobs, baby, been listening to Nas lately
And I can’t lie, baby, been missing them thighs, baby
But it’s more to life than Gucci and Louis Vuitton, baby
It’s more to life than tripping on lies, baby
Put feelings aside, baby, you Nicki Minaj, baby
One day we all die, baby
So I’d rather go hard, keep Cali alive, baby
Yeah, keep Cali alive, baby
Double entendre, ni**a that’s my baby
And don’t nobody father kids like me
Word to Kevin Hart, take care of they rib like me
I made f**ked up decisions but don’t let em crucify me
I’m still the same ni**a on my California ID
Yeah, Compton ni**a
Blame Dre, it’s his fault that I’m a monster, ni**a
I was selling crack in west side Bompton, ni**a
Yeah I can rap, but I ain’t ask for no sponsors, ni**a
I was light skin and young Klay Thompson, ni**a
15, had guns like Contra, ni**a
Now the call me bipolar, big contradiction
This The Documentary 2 without Doc’s prescription