The Game (prod. by Kanye West, Scratches by DJ Premier) (2007)
[Chorus - Samples] "It's only right that I address this..." "Gotta be in it to win it..." "I never come lame type killin in the game..." "Now... get busy..." "It's only right that I address this..." "Gotta be in it to win it...." "I never come lame type killin in the game..." "Hot music..."
[Verse One] Raised by game where niggas ain't phased by fame Come to the crib, get banged, they take your chain. Stay in your lane, Brokeback ain't the way of the game My brainstorm is like I stay in the rain My favorite was Kane, now I'm dope with weight in the game You was hot but can't stay in the flame Ghetto pain and windows crack, the fist is like a symbol for black Can tell the real by how the real interact In the middle of whack my soul sticks to a track Kickback records get kicked to the back I want big cribs and my man Ronnie to get his Child in a good school and know what her gift is It's global warming, the world is shifting Watching Sweet Sixteen, Bitchin-ass rich kids You don't know it like you gotta go the distance Whether yoga or doja, we all get lifted in the Game
[Chorus]
[Verse Two] I never kissed the ass of the masses, I'm the black molasses Thick and I lasted past these rat bastards They try to box me in like Cassius Clay Hey I'm like Muhammad when he fasted Opposing the fascist, make cuts and got gashes Scratches over third eyelashes Punchlines are like jab hits to rappers Whose careers now ashes it's too many slashes In his name, came in the game these gun-clappers From weak lines to clothing lines to an actress I seen em dashing smash hits I yell run nigga run while I cook up classics The weak hearted, become Babylon puppets Making it hard for real hustlas Touch the sky now and then, with a lady friend Give
[Chorus]
[Verse Three] I just wanna be like Akeelah, an achiever from the streets of the Chi where some get high for leisure Selling weed out of cleaners From rocks to barber shops and beemers Chicks with blond weaves and strong legs like Serena The demeanor of the Ghetto, to never stay settled Aldermen and corrupt men play Pharaoh GOOD bring business to the hood like heralds Find your own, walking by themself in the street The young die of cancer, I stop eating meat Greet the gods on 87th street like peace Even though it's war to G, got em facing the east The game ain't tasting as sweet Cats flow is still, and they complacent with beats My radio station is deep, so eff em Progression, counting paper and blessings in the game