The Game

The Game - On Me

rate me

(Produced by Bongo 'The Drum Gahd')

Ft. Kendric Lamar

(Verse: The Game)

Back when Dot was hanging at Top's in the Benzo

Freestyling to them Chronic instrumentals

No pens and pencils, I was out there Blooding like a menstrual

Wit a Backwood clinched between my dentals

Way back when, when we was outside wit the indo

Hotboxing rentals in front of Centennial

Remedial thoughts, neva thought that I would amount to shit

Smoke chronic, fuck bitches, ride around bouncing shit

From Impalas to that Harley truck

To dish ragging bitches that was hard to fuck

I came up, it was hardly luck

Just left Compton, and I ain't have to use my AK

What a day, what a day

(Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar)

Back when my drivers license, was baby faced and trifling

I made my way thru' crisis

I made my tape and recorded portraits in front of sirens

I made ya hate the vibrant, ya can't escape the tyrant

Ya can't relate where I've been

In '98 my problem, acting too grown and shit

Capping at bitches, yeah my religion thru' songs and shit

On me, that's on me

Raise up, nigga, ya are not the homie

Bitch I’m well-connected from my section down to Long Beach

Fumbling wit Tetris if yo block neglecting yo ki

Everyday I wake up wit my face up to my father

Making sure my heart is pure enough to grow my seed
 and harvest

All my king stuffing, double up my plantation wit dollar

Every dream is such reality, my deja vu done caught up

Bitch I'm brought up wit the homies, that's on me

24/7, Kendrick repping these cold streets

Know we live by it, die by it, then reincarnate

And if Game told me, "Drive by it," I raise AK

Ain't no shame on it, cry about it, fuck that, I'll play

Like no name on it, blindsided, ain't no one safe

Documentary had identities of where I'm from

Therefore my energy had to make sure the betta me won

It ain't no betta one, son, it ain't no telling me nothing

Nigga it's Chuck, Doc Dre and K, the legacy's done

(Interlude: Kendrick Lamar)

Oh man, ya thought these niggas wit attitude would show gratitude

Fooled ya

From 2015 to infinity it's still bomb weed and Hennessy

I can pimp a butterfly for the energy

Game I need acapella

(Verse 3: Game)

There I go, give me a minute, nigga

'Bout to hit a home run, K. Dot, grab the pennant, nigga

Pin it on my Pendleton, trap late night, Jay Leno them

Got my mom a tennis bracelet, Wimbledon of Wilmington

Now can I rap for a minute? Black on the track for a minute

Look in my rhyme book, see murder like when I was a fan of No Limit

Ain't no gimmicks 'round here, this Compton, me, Doc and Kendrick

Chronic, good kid, my first year, 3 documentaries

Now I'm blocking sentries, 16 Impalas

They bounce like they need a dollar

That's on my mama, niggas up and did me a solid

I put that on me, that's on me

Ya get a bullet fucking wit the lil' homie

Thinking back then like fuck yo rules, nigga this is Piru

Slide thru' wit the Erykah Badu

West side Compton, nigga don't mind if I do

From Piru Street to my old street

Nigga this Compton, grew up on a dead end

Got an armful of dead friends

Round here Crips be sweating us niggas like a headband

Like what's up cuz

(Yo, dog, where ya from?) No time to stop and think

Pull yo strap before they do or ya get shot before ya blink

Straight outta Compton, three times I told ya

The third time I said it wit TDE mutherfucker

I'll make ya eat every letter

Spoonfeed ya niggas like toddlers, from the city of Impalas

When shot callers take their pitbulls and feed them niggas rottweilers

My clip full, I quick pull, no more slanging eight balls on the corner

And all them niggas I used to freestyle wit, I ate y'all on the corner

Call the coroner, niggas dead out here

Hanging onto life by a thread out here

Them niggas wearing all that red out here

P snapbacks on niggas heads out here

So don't ya come fucking wit the little homie

So OG they call me Tony

Montana, no French, my red bandana legit

My uncle told me before he died, 'Just keep yo hand on the brick'

So I did, sell every chicken that a nigga had in stock, yes I did

Walked to Compton, hot pocket full of rocks, yes I did

Skipped class, yes I did, whooped niggas ass, yes I did

Fucked a bitch behind the bleachers while on the grass, that's on Bloods

Westside, that's on Bloods, this TEC fly, that's on Bloods

Ya fuck wit Dot, I'll let ya choke on yo blood

I put that

(Hook: Kendrick Lamar)

On me, that's on me

On me, that's on me

On me, that's on me

Raise up, nigga ya are not the homie

On me, that's on me

On me, that's on me

On me, that's on me

Raise up, nigga ya are not the homie

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