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Jay-Z f Memphis Bleek, Sauce Money

What the Game Made Me

223,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Jay-Z f Memphis Bleek, Sauce Money - What the Game Made Me

Jay-Z f Memphis Bleek, Sauce Money - What the Game Made Me слова песни

YeahIntro/Chorus: Jay-ZI`m what the game made meNot what the fame made meNo amount of money can change meI`m what you lames can`t beLive nigga what? Live as fuck(repeat 2X)Verse One: Jay-ZCheck, live from the 7-1-8Either respect the flow or learn your lesson from your weightI`m wishin arthritis on all writers who, Knock My HustleHow can y`all understand the struggle?It`s hard to live, when you got greedy niggaz in the mixKnowin I outclass three-E niggaz in the sixSo I outblast til it`s empty clipsAnd I outlast niggaz, survival of the fitOne life, I gotta make sure it`s done rightCause them yet to have a conversation bout reincarnationBall out, until I fall outStick thick chicks, try to tear they wall outHard to think about your future with, nothin to gainHard to concentrate on school with stomach painLife`s harsh, I know y`all runnin from `cainebut it`ll only catch you and track you downWith no deal, who you gonna rap to now?Start your own record company, that`s profoundLive niggaz gonna rumble when you back from the warJive niggaz gonna crumble and fallChorusVerse Two: Memphis BleekAiyyo whether in the Pinto, or rollin in the sixI come through cocky, holdin my dickI never switch shit, cause that`s some bitch shitI get the Bisquick take it to the districtcause I could never get rich, and switch my styleI just cop a little hurt, to the mercantileI`m tryin to get it though, rhymin with this six digit flowGettin fly is the minimal, holdin somethin is the principalRespect this young nigga that`s, holdin the torchPreachin shit like the crack game, don`t take shortsThrow it down it`s a bet, nigga roll hardtil you got somethin icey, round your neckIn this concrete jungle get rich or remain humbleNever speak the biz, at worst I might mumbleNiggaz test it I spit guns, angrilyTil all that remains is meChorus (by Memphis Bleek instead of Jay-Z)Verse Three: Sauce MoneyI went from no dough to show dough to money to blowFrom umm, hoe I don`t know, to get deezNever, "Excuse me miss," bitch please, never try to provokeSame disrespectful cat I was when I was brokeAin`t nuttin changed baby but the different faces I stopor maybe some of the places I shopNow that I run through tracks like cleets with a Airfor some of the hottest beats, still catch me eatin at Pete`sFuck the foul cat who screamed out and threatened my lifeIt`s all good, here I come kid, dead to the hoodtil I`m in the dirt, foul cats like termitescome out of the woodworks, if they think you stack paperDead niggaz react later while the cancer spreadTeach a team how to scheme before they answer leadYou know me, I used to shoot hoops in the park, ain`t nothin changedexcept now I push Coupe`s in the darkChorus (Sauce Money instead of Jay-Z)

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