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