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Correct What The Game Made Me Lyrics
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Artists: J
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JAY-Z
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Correct What The Game Made Me
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Lyrics:
Yeah [Intro/Chorus: Jay-Z] I'm what the game made me Not what the fame made me No amount of money can change me I'm what you lames can't be Live nigga what? Live as fuck [repeat 2X] [Verse One: Jay-Z] Check, live from the 7-1-8 Either respect the flow or learn your lesson from your weight I'm wishin arthritis on all writers who, Knock My Hustle How can y'all understand the struggle? It's hard to live, when you got greedy niggaz in the mix Knowin I outclass three-E niggaz in the six So I outblast til it's empty clips And I outlast niggaz, survival of the fit One life, I gotta make sure it's done right Cause them yet to have a conversation bout reincarnation Ball out, until I fall out Stick thick chicks, try to tear they wall out Hard to think about your future with, nothin to gain Hard to concentrate on school with stomach pain Life's harsh, I know y'all runnin from 'caine But it'll only catch you and track you down With no deal, who you gonna rap to now? Start your own record company, that's profound Live niggaz gonna rumble when you back from the war Jive niggaz gonna crumble and fall [Chorus:] [Verse Two: Memphis Bleek] Aiyyo whether in the Pinto, or rollin in the six I come through cocky, holdin my dick I never switch shit, cause that's some bitch shit I get the Bisquick take it to the district Cause I could never get rich, and switch my style I just cop a little hurt, to the mercantile I'm tryin to get it though, rhymin with this six digit flow Gettin fly is the minimal, holdin somethin is the principal Respect this young nigga that's, holdin the torch Preachin shit like the crack game, don't take shorts Throw it down it's a bet, nigga roll hard Til you got somethin icey, round your neck In this concrete jungle get rich or remain humble Never speak the biz, at worst I might mumble Niggaz test it I spit guns, angrily Til all that remains is me [Chorus (by Memphis Bleek instead of Jay-Z)] [Verse Three: Sauce Money] I went from no dough to show dough to money to blow From umm, hoe I don't know, to get deez Never, "Excuse me miss," bitch please, never try to provoke Same disrespectful cat I was when I was broke Ain't nuttin changed baby but the different faces I stop Or maybe some of the places I shop Now that I run through tracks like cleets with a Air For some of the hottest beats, still catch me eatin at Pete's Fuck the foul cat who screamed out and threatened my life It's all good, here I come kid, dead to the hood Til I'm in the dirt, foul cats like termites Come out of the woodworks, if they think you stack paper Dead niggaz react later while the cancer spread Teach a team how to scheme before they answer lead You know me, I used to shoot hoops in the park, ain't nothin changed Except now I push Coupe's in the dark [Chorus (Sauce Money instead of Jay-Z)]
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