My Life
[Hook: Lil Wayne]And I'm grindin til I'm tiredCause they said you ain't grindin til you tiredSo I'm grindin with my eyes wide, looking to findA way through the day, a light for the nightDear Lord: you done took so many of my peopleI'm just wondering why you haven't taken my lifeLike what the hell am I doing right?My life
[Verse 1: The Game]Take me away from the hood, like a state penitentiaryTake me away from the hood, in a casket or a BentleyTake me away, like I overdosed on cocaineOr take me away, like a bullet from Kurt CobainSuicide, I'm from a Windy City, like Do or DieFrom a block close to where Biggie was crucifiedThat was Brooklyn's Jesus, shot for no fucking reasonAnd you wonder why Kanye wears Jesus pieces?Cause that's Jesus, people - and Game, he's the equalHated on so much, "Passion of Christ" need a sequelYeah, like Roc-a-Fella needed SiegelLike I needed my father, but he needed a needleI need some meditation so I can lead my peopleThey asking why, why did John Lennon leave The Beatles?And why every hood nigga feed off evil?Answer my question fore this bullet leave this Desert Eagle
[Hook]
[Verse 2: The Game]We are not the same, I am a MartianSo approach my Phantom doors with cautionYou see them 24's spinning? I earned 'emAnd I ain't no preacher but, here's my Erick SermonSo eat this black music and tell me how it taste nowAnd fuck Jesse Jackson cause it ain't about race nowSometimes I think about my life, with my face downThen I see my sons and put on that Kanye smileDamn, I know his mama proudAnd since you helped me sell my dream we can share my momma nowAnd like M.J.B., no more drama nowLiving the good life, me and Common on common groundI spit crack, and niggas could drive it out of townGot a Chris Paul mind state, I'm never out of boundsMy life used to be empty like a Glock without a roundNow my life full, like a chopper with a thousand rounds
[Hook]
[Verse 3: The Game]Walk through the gates of hell, see my Impala parked in frontWith the high beams on, me and the devil sharing chronic bluntsListening to the Chronic album playing backwardsShooting at pictures of Don Imus for target practiceMy mind fucked up, so I cover it with a Raider hoodI'm from the city that made you motherfuckers afraid of Suge{"Compton, Compton"} Made my grandmother pray for goodIt never made her happy, but I bet that new Mercedes couldAin't no bars, but niggas can't escape the hoodAnd it took so many of my niggas, that I should hate the hoodBut it's real niggas like me that make the hoodRiding slow in that Phantom just the way I shouldWith the top back, in my Sox hatI'm "Paid in Full", the nigga Alpo couldn't stop thatEven if they brought the nigga Pac backI'll still keep this motherfucker cocked back