The Game - 87 CUTLASS (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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The Game - 87 CUTLASS (en) Lyrics
by RentAnAdviser.com
When I exit the 110 at Compton,
I start cocking shit
Halloween ain't shit when you stuck
at the light with a Compton crip
Niggas don't make it out
My grandma Lilly named me Game
But these two AK's ain't
nothing to play about
I had a jumper and hoop dreams,
but I couldn't wait it out
Wrote weed on my scholarship letters
and took the paper route
Crips know where I stay every other
day, had to spray it out
Compton sheriffs hit the crib, I’m
hiding in the neighbor's house
Moms kicked me out, had to move
all my shit to David house
His moms told me pull my own
weight, here, weigh it out
That water boil, take it out
Professor clumps in that mason jar
Look like I'm having a sеizure
when I shake it out
In thе trap trying to focus,
writing raps on the sofa
Thought the house was tapped
Cause I can see antennas
on the roaches
Niggas can't tell me nothing
about being poor
Extendos on the phone cord
Pull that bitch from the kitchen
to the front door
Seen one bullet, put a nigga under
Seen a nigga survive a whole
clip with staples from
his ear to his stomach
My uncle got stabbed, fucked
up a whole summer
My sister got shot in the ass,
my nigga, she wasn't running
My life ain't a movie, it’s
a series on Prime
I told Juan, feed me my own
dick if I ever drop a dime
If niggas owe me and still ain't
pay me, it's never mine
It's like a rollie on the ground,
I ain't tripping over time
I ain't tripping on 50, all
that shit I left behind
Ain't tripping on Interscope for
that slave deal that I signed
I gave 'em five albums, it was nine
In the contract, told Berman,
“drop me or this fucking
nine getting cocked back”
Been independent for ten summers,
it’s like Ella Mai and Mustard
Big ass riding with me in his Hummer
Wish my nigga Vail could see me now
How you make it out of Compton
and get murdered out of town
They caught the homie slipping,
it ain't show him no remorse
So I walk around with that fire,
like I'm carrying a torch
Been known to get it jumping since
I hopped up off the porch
Pocket full of dead prezzies and
a closet full of corpses (Hey)
Being broke, the only thing
I looked at as a threat
Trials and tribulations, real
and fake can never mesh
Only dotted line to have
a sign was on a check
I gotta keep it on me, I got
million dollar flesh
I got the game plan
I got million dollar views
behind these Ray-Bans
They bought seats, but I'm someone
that they can't stand
I'm so, how about these clouds
that I can't land
So please don't pray for me (Yeah)
And if I die before I wake, just
save that space for me
But please don't pray for me
I 'don fucked a celebrity bitch
for every dead homie I got
Flipped the truck off Ciroc, that
shit worse than getting shot
Ain't die, get a DUI, my
guardian angel, Pac
He probably up there telling God,
if Chuck die the world stop
Not even a 20 year old Iron Mike
Tyson punching my clock
Got Meek on a song after this,
and he used to be my opp
But he called me on his first day
out and we spoke about a lot
He said he love LA and with my
blessings he gon' buy a spot
I told him cop it by the beach, 'cause
in the summer it get hot
If they can kill B.I.G., they can kill
us like they did to nigga Pac
Don't trust niggas in my
own state, cock it back
Played a rear view a few times
before I open up my own gate
If I don't make it home safe,
I told my oldest son
put C4 on that home safe
And spin it at your own pace
I'm 42, another 42, that’s
gon' be home base
I'm in this shit for life,
eyes are bright
I beat my own case
No matter which way the camera
rotate, I choose my own fate
Put the mask up, I ain't got
COVID, I show my whole face
Drown all my demons and ask
them how this Patron taste
Pat me down at the club, and you
gone feel that shit is on waste
It's on soon as Soulja Boy tell
him to look the wrong way
50 round drums, slugs click
in like a phone case
I put that on Dre, ain’t
nobody gon' push me
I ain't scared of no nigga that was
a baby when he came put the pussy
I bang, and I ain't never said
I was T. Rogers or Tookie
But I shoot up a library before
I let the feds book me
And this goes for every nigga trapping
from Columbia to Brooklyn
Put a brick in that boy face, the
cartel can watch him cook it
Dig my daddy out the grave, ask
that nigga where he took him
Cleveland National Forest, I
hit targets without looking
So if I ever run in the pool,
nigga I'ma finish the job
He did 25 for taking them
Barclays and killing Rob
No, no, no
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