[The Game]. Yo Havoc I'm too close to the edge on this one nigga. I ain't gon' jump though I'ma keep it raw gutter. Yo Prodigy you know I need you on this one nigga. [The Game]. I got shit on my chest I must confess. Last night I was the nigga that shot up your projects. Now I'm back in the hood with rocks in the Pyrex. Tan khakis and them Nike Airs with the dyed checks. I was forced to live this life forced to bust my chrome. My pops left me in a foster home. I felt abandoned like Quik now that Mausberg gone. So I don't hop in the SS without the Mossberg homes. I've been rappin for a year and a half my life is real. Put the gun in his mouth he gon' bite the steel. Come to Compton I got stripes for real. Before Dre before the ice before the deal - I was almost killed. Like 'Pac before the Death Row deal. I got shot over two pounds of weed still ain't found them niggaz. But karma come quicker for a nigga on the other side of the gun. That's somethin I gotta teach my son. [Chorus: Faith Evans]. I don't need your love no no no no. I don't need your love. Need it I don't want it I don't need it. I don't need your love no I don't need your love. I don't need your love. Cause the game don't change. [The Game]. I heard they got Bloods in New York now. Red rags in Uptown Harlem now I need that love. Front court at the Knicks game new chick French name. New car new house and sometimes friends change. And you don't need that love when you G's like us. And your Jesus piece is sim-u-lar to Biggie's. And your life story is sim-u-lar to 50's. First they hate you then they love you then they hate you again. What the fuck do it take for a gangsta to win?. No mics no +Unsigned Hype+ nigga *FUCK* The Source. Plus them awards I don't need. And them niggaz breathin the same air as me actin like they don't bleed. We don't drive the same speed this a Continental T. That's a case of Armadale this a continental suite. So I'ma drown in my own sorrows. Live life fuck tomorrow nigga cause reality is. [Chorus w/ variations + ad libs]. [The Game]. I was gassed up Murder Inc. Roc-A-Fella passed up. Sat in Daddy's House with Black Rob and Lou and asked Puff. Now The Game set in stone the Frank Muniz set in stones. Dre cut me a check I'm gone. Tryin to be the king of the streets niggaz'll wet your throne. But I got nieces to feed two coasts to please. So I roam through the city like the ghost of E. Gotta put Compton back where it's 'sposed to be. Nuttin between all my niggaz that's close to me. In the streets with two fellas packin toast for me. I'm 'posed to be got all the critics watchin my pivot. On my block in the Coupe readin kites from prison. I got niggaz doin life in prison. All my fallen soldiers is one of the reasons we pour out liquor. So this song is for Ms. Wallace Afeni Shakur. And all the mothers of dead sons that went out in the war. [Chorus - 2X w/ variations + ad libs]. *Enviado por "Sekef"