Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Life, artist - The Game. Date of issue: 15.10.2015
Song language: English
Life |
| My daddy ain’t going nowhere |
| Never |
| Whether we dribble out this motherfucker |
| Wrap rock or riddle out this motherfucker |
| We gon' get up out this motherfucker |
| 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 niggas talking 'bout? |
| Couldn’t Paul Bearer 'cause I was too weak to walk him out |
| And that’s real shit, I’m dedicated |
| Like Pac was to Jada before Jada met Will Smith |
| I’m already turnt up, chronic still burnt up |
| Fuck outta here, with all that lean and popping pills shit |
| 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 niggas 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 niggas 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, nigga it’s branded |
| And my fucking kids tighter than Ray J and Brandy |
| Yeah, I give it to you so you understand |
| Fucking bitches 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, nigga, 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 fucked up decisions but don’t let 'em crucify me |
| I’m still the same nigga on my California ID |
| Yeah, Compton nigga |
| Blame Dre, it’s his fault that I’m a monster, nigga |
| I was selling crack in west side Bompton, nigga |
| Yeah I can rap, but I ain’t ask for no sponsors, nigga |
| I was light skin and young, Klay Thompson, nigga |
| 15, had guns like Contra, nigga |
| Now they call me bipolar, big contradiction |
| This The Documentary 2 without Doc’s prescription |
| Motherfucker |