Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song True Colors/It's On , by - The Game. Release date: 13.10.2016
Song language: English
True Colors/It's On |
| I am a nightmare walking, psychopath talking |
| King of my jungle just a gangster stalking |
| Living life like a firecracker quick is my fuse |
| Then dead as a deathpack the colors I choose |
| Red or blue, cuz or blood, it just don’t matter |
| My daddy was from Nutty Blocc |
| My uncle was from Nutty Blocc |
| My mama was from Hoover, how she end up here cuttin' rock? |
| Four year old on her lap, that was my older sister |
| Photos of Tookie and my father, now you get the picture |
| Cutlass outside on D’s, you think it wasn’t |
| 15 inches, had Computer Love, subbin' |
| My parents bout to see Rocky at the Compton Drive In |
| Halfway through the movie her stomach start throbbin' |
| My pops start panicin', moms in the passenger seat |
| Scared of contractions so she’s stiff as a mannequin |
| Pops put the car in reverse and then skrt’d out |
| «Drive motherfucker"them the words my mom skrt’d out |
| 80 down Wilmington, pull up at Killer King |
| Rush my mama to her room and let the doctor do his thing |
| Was a whole lotta blood, yeah I was born in it |
| Gang banging my family got torn in it, all over |
| Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| Jordan got drafted to the Bulls, '85 here |
| My Uncle Greg sniffin' cocaine off my high chair |
| Mama in the kitchen cookin', pops on the couch baggin' |
| Cousin’s loadin' Louie Vuitton duffles in the Station Wagon |
| Fiends walkin' in and out my house in old Nikes |
| Pops used to tell me «son don’t you ever be like me» |
| The bloods want to kill me, the cops’ll never catch me |
| And when you gang bangin' life’s shorter than Joe Pesci |
| Then one night my pops came home off heroin |
| Shit changed, I’m glad my mama didn’t marry him |
| Molested my sister that night cause she was scared |
| I was too young to help her and my brothers wasn’t there |
| It was late night, 2AM, my mother at work |
| My sister came back up the stairs and it was blood on her shirt |
| Blood on her face, blood on her hands, blood on her legs |
| Turned on the light and everything was red |
| I’m surrounded by |
| Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| Seven years passed, now a lil nigga seeing things |
| Playin' with the birds like Magic, we was the dream team |
| Posted up on the block, I had that Hakeem lean |
| Watchin' '64s hop my nigga, no green screen |
| Walkin' from the Tanas to the Cedars with my eyes closed |
| Red bandanna in my pocket, how you hide those? |
| Larry Nickles crack spot, my brother got me servin' |
| Couldn’t cook, burnin' holes in my Dennis Rodman jersey |
| Then a nigga turned Pippen on these niggas |
| 40 sippin' on these niggas |
| If you Crippin', we was trippin' on you nigga |
| But the Crips would never lay down |
| They thought that it was they town |
| We thought it was ours so we would empty out the trey pounds |
| Ditched school especially since it was an all Crip school |
| I’m lucky I’m alive, but would you be if bullets hit you? |
| 26 dead homies and 2 dead brothers |
| Compton is a cold motherfucker |
| Niggas dyin' over |
| Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors |
| If someone took the flag out my pocket |
| Wrap it around my knuckles, make a fist and lock it |
| If someone took the flag out my pocket |
| Wrap it around my knuckles, make a fist and lock it |
| If someone took the flag out my pocket |
| Wrap it around my knuckles, make a fist and lock it |
| If someone took the flag out my pocket |
| Wrap it around my knuckles, make a fist and lock it |
| These rappers gimmicks, fuck an image |
| Straight out of Baldwin Village |
| If it’s any real activity I’m in it in the midst of the fiction |
| Still had a vision, look I never gave up |
| Game put me on this song and I fucked around and came up |
| I’m Jungles, most my niggas gone so I’ma do it for them |
| Antman, Nightmare, B.S.I.P., Tiny M |
| It’s struggle first, blessin' last |
| Like I’ve been hittin' licks all my life and I passed |
| Kept it active for my son he know his daddy ain’t a bitch |
| Been bangin' all my life now I’m just tryna get rich |
| This shit is drastic, my flow bashin' |
| On rappers I’m flowin' after |
| The cabbage is all that matters |
| I’m laughin', these niggas cowards |
| It’s Osbe, gang bangin' is my hobby |
| Except my model cars it’s a fuckin' dead body |
| I’m from the jungle, all the homies call me Barzan |
| Loadin' up the clips and hoppin' out them stolen cars and |
| If someone took the flag out my pocket |