[Verse 1: Game]
Mama told me stay away from them n***as
Mama told me she had a K for them n***as
Mama told me she go to pay for them n***as
While my grandmother told me that she would pray for them n***as
They just young black and ignorant
Lusting over models and the Benjamins
Got the game twisted like (what?) licorice
When I was rocking lottos moving packs in front of McDonalds
She was looking for me, pulled up in that Old El Dorado
I was running around with Chase, chasing new black wheels
Why would I do that still? That's what got 2Pac k**ed...
But I use that still cause I won't do that deal
Screw the muzzle in potatoes of that new Mac Mill
What did I learn? Nothing
My papa smoking sherm blunts and
Beating on my moms like her head was a percussion
Tat! Tat! My.45 knocking on your window
She said there would be days like this, Pharrell, drop the instrumental
[Pharrell:]
Yezzir...
[Hook: Nelly Furtado]
I know I must go and I don't know my way
Still don't know where we all came from
[Verse 2: Game]
Crack a Swisher, crack a 5th up
Hennessy pouring like Niagara Falls
Used to watch Magic, he showed me how to ball
Moms working late night, to get a plate right
Had some older brothers, all we did was smoke and play-fight
Wish I could go back to them days cause streets don't play right
Some n***as hard, other n***as was the Kid N Play type
Didn't stop me from pretending I was Apollo from Rocky
Working on my dip-game, now nobody wanna box me
Pick and choose, stick and move
So many dudes ended up in sleeping bags on late-night news
But not my mama's song, going around the hood serving customers
She yapping in my ear, but it's louder than the muffler
What I didn't listen to, I wish I would've trusted her
Wish I had a shovel, be digging both of my brothers up
Like "here hug em ma, one last time"
Put a chain on both of them n***as, they get one last shine
[Hook: Nelly Furtado]
[Verse 3: Game]
Put your block down, recognize a king cause it's my town
Word to my mother you can throw up your rock now
Got off the beef sh** cause I ain't tryna see my mama in all-black
Right there, crying over hard facts
Now she gotta turn in all her cars and get her house back
Never! She carried me for 9 months so she can have whatever
Plus she taught me how to shoot Berettas, told me that I'd be a king
So RIP to Coretta, if you don't understand that
Then refer to my letter, while I sprinkle
n***as with platinum, from my last album
Got the check, so I signed on the X like Malcolm
Riding through the hood, you hating n***as like "how come? "
That n***as Game got it, heard he selling talcum
Either way, hey playboy, check it, this is the outcome
You might not like it, but my mama psychic
Why you n***as twisted like the top of a Sidekick?