| Punk-ass motherfucker, checkin shit
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| What you was gon’do, kill me in my sleep you bitch-ass nigga?
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| Tupac, Biggie, shut the fuck up!
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| Them fuckin dogs, barkin and shit (don't shoot, don’t shoot)
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| Fuck you nigga
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| And I’m grindin until I’m tired
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| Cause they said you ain’t grindin until you tired
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| So I’m grindin with my eyes wide, lookin to find
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| A way through the day, a life for the night
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| Dear Lord you done took so many of my people
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| I’m just wonderin why you haven’t taken my life (my life, my life)
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| Like what the hell am I doin right? |
| (doin right)
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| My life (my life, my life)
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| + (Lil Wayne)
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| Take me away from the hood, like a state penitentiary
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| Take me away from the hood, in a casket or a Bentley
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| Take me away, like I overdosed on cocaine
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| Or take me away, like a bullet from Kurt Cobain
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| Suicide, I’m from a +Windy City+, like Do or Die
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| From a block close to where Biggie was crucified
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| That was Brooklyn’s Jesus, shot for no fuckin reason
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| And you wonder why Kanye wears Jesus pieces (my life, my life)
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| Cause that’s Jesus people, and Game, he’s the equal
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| Hated on some much +Passion+ that Christ need a sequel
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| Yeah, like Roc-a-Fella need a Sigel
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| Like I needed my father, but he needed a needle (my life, my life)
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| I need some meditation, so I can lead my people
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| They askin why, why did John Lennon leave The Beatles?
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| And why every hood nigga feed off evil?
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| Answer my question 'fore this bullet leave this Desert Eagle
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| + (Lil Wayne)
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| We are not the same, I am a Martian
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| So approach my Phantom doors with caution
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| You see them 24's spinnin? |
| I earned 'em
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| And all the pictures of me and Em, I burned 'em
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| So it ain’t no proof, that I ever walked through 8 Mile
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| And since it ain’t no Proof, I’ll never walk through 8 Mile
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| Sometimes I think about my life, with my face down
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| Then I see my sons and put on that Kanye smile (my life, my life)
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| Damn, I know his momma proud
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| And since you helped me sell my +Dream+ we can share my momma now
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| And like M.J.B., +No More Drama+ now
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| Livin the +Good Life+, me and Common on common ground
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| I spit crack, and niggaz could drop it out of town
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| Got a Cris', call my estate, I’m never out of bounds
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| My life used to be empty like a glock without a round
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| Now my life full, like a chopper with a thousand rounds
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| + (Lil Wayne)
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| Walk through the gates of hell, see my Impala parked in front
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| With the high beams on, me and the devil sharin chronic blunts
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| Listenin to the «Chronic"album, play it backwards
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| Shootin at pictures of Don Imus for target practice
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| My mind fucked up, so I cover it with a Raider hood
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| I’m from the city that made you motherfuckers afraid of Suge
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| Made my grandmother pray for good
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| It never made her happy, but I bet that new Mercedes could (my life, my life)
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| Ain’t no bars, but niggaz can’t escape the hood
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| It took so many of my niggaz, that I should hate the hood
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| But it’s real niggaz like me, that make the hood
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| Ridin slow in that Phantom just the way I should (my life, my life)
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| With the top back, in my Sox hat
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| I’m +Paid in Full+, the nigga Alpo couldn’t stop that
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| Even if they brought the nigga 'Pac back
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| I’ll still keep this motherfucker cocked back
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| My life (my life, my life)
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| My life (my life, my life)
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| My life (my life, my life) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song My Life, artist - The Game. Album song The Blackwall Street, Vol. 6, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп