[Verse 1 - Game] Mama told me stay away from them niggas Mama told me she had a K for them niggas Mama told me she go to pay for them niggas While my grandmother told me that she would pray for them niggas They just young black and ignorant Lusting over models and the Benjamins Got the game twisted like (what?) licorice When I was rocking lottos moving packs in front of McDonalds She was looking for me, pulled up in that Old El Dorado I was running around with Chase, chasing new black wheels Why would I do that still? That's what got 2Pac killed.. But I use that still cause I won't do that deal Screw the muzzle in potatoes of that new Mac Mill What did I learn? Nothing My papa smoking sherm blunts and Beating on my moms like her head was a percussion Tat! Tat! My .45 knocking on your window She said there would be days like this, Pharrell, drop the instrumental
[Pharrell] Yezzir..
[Hook - Nelly Furtado] I know I must go and I don't know my way Still don't know where we all came from
[Verse 2 - Game] Crack a Swisher, crack a 5th up Hennessy pouring like Niagara Falls Used to watch Magic, he showed me how to ball Moms working late night, to get a plate right Had some older brothers, all we did was smoke and play-fight Wish I could go back to them days cause streets don't play right Some niggas hard, other niggas was the Kid N Play type Didn't stop me from pretending I was Apollo from Rocky Working on my dip-game, now nobody wanna box me Pick and choose, stick and move So many dudes ended up in sleeping bags on late-night news But not my mama's song, going around the hood serving customers She yapping in my ear, but it's louder than the muffler What I didn't listen to, I wish I would've trusted her Wish I had a shovel, be digging both of my brothers up Like "here hug em ma, one last time" Put a chain on both of them niggas, they get one last shine
[Hook - Nelly Furtado]
[Verse 3 - Game] Put your block down, recognize a king cause it's my town Word to my mother you can throw up your rock now Got off the beef shit cause I ain't tryna see my mama in all-black Right there, crying over hard facts Now she gotta turn in all her cars and get her house back Never! She carried me for 9 months so she can have whatever Plus she taught me how to shoot Berettas, told me that I'd be a king So RIP to Coretta, if you don't understand that Then refer to my letter, while I sprinkle Niggas with platinum, from my last album Got the check, so I signed on the X like Malcolm Riding through the hood, you hating niggas like "how come?" That niggas Game got it, heard he selling talcum Either way, hey playboy, check it, this is the outcome You might not like it, but my mama psychic Why you niggas twisted like the top of a Sidekick?Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
