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The Game
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Must Be Me
*Lets make it big, Pharrell
Wake up in the morning, oh shit!
Had to cock the 9, niggas tryin' to steal my pits
Went out the back door, see them niggas hit the fence
Im telling you, life in Compton is a bitch
Let off a couple shots, God damn, I miss
Say fuck it anyway, and let off the whole clip
Im not to be fucked with, when Im off liquor
Old English in my system, bout to kill me a nigga
See, I remember back in the days, loadin my AK
Ridin round in my Impala with my lungs full of haze
That's when I didnt give a fuck, now I got my son
Shoot a nigga, he die, public enemy number one
But, this aint no action flick, no Johnny Depp shit
When the Tec spit hollow tips in your Lexus
So. Dont fuck with a Compton nigga when he packin the gat
Yeah, nigga, I stay strapped
Somethin hot in here
Nigga, it must be me! Is it the shades? Is it the Js?
Is it the Bentley with the full color ways
Or the old-school sittin on blades
What could be?
Its 2-o-clock in the afternoon, Im bout to roll a Swisher
Cause that's what real niggas do when they at home
Watchin ESPN on the 70-inch flat screen
K-Gs and Wade jerseys, blowin chronic, that green
Gave up the hoop dreams, bubble with the crack dreams
Turn hood zombies into a Olympic track team
Till I got shot, and infiltrated the rap scene
Had to clean my life up, doc gave me the vaccine
Dont get it twisted, I still click-clack things
Red beam attached to each and every strap
That I keep locked up in my basement
If I shoot a nigga, will the Lord forgive Jason?
I dont know, still got a sick fetish for shoot-outs and car chases
Fuck Pacino, cause we know niggas with scarfaces
And we go back, like D-Boys and small faces
And we crashin new Ferraris while ya'll hatin'
Pharrell I think its
Somethin hot in here
Nigga, it must be me! Is it the shades? Is it the Js?
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Is it the Bentley with the full color ways
Or the old-school sittin on blades
What could it be?
You know the answer, fool
Niggas caint fuck with me, real spit
I guess I am a motherfucking legend, Will Smith
All Im missin is a bitch like Jada, Bonnie & Clyde shit
Hit the fence like later, sayonara, arrivederci
Black rose Phantom, interior hearse shit
And I got some kisses from a couple Brooklyn bitches
Them hoesll never testify, peace to Common
But Game keep it hood like weaves and Top Ramen
Never stop coming for the top
If the bass a flesh wound and Pharrell a head shot
Motherfucker, and when he take aim
Bullets enter your frame, my bars simi-lar
To a dragon swalloin flames
Caint walk through the club and take a piss
Without these new school rap niggas on my dick
While you fuck around with your jewelry and all your whips
I pull up with your bitch pumpin gangsta shit
Now you know
Somethin hot in here
Nigga, it must be me! Is it the shades? Is it the Js?
Is it the Bentley with the full color ways
Or the old-school sittin on blades
What could it be?
You know the answer, fool
Do ya thing, shawty
Do ya thing, shawty
Do ya thing, shawty
Erybody lookin now Go
Go
Go
Go
Go
Go
Erybody lookin now
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