The Game - It Must Be Me lyrics

[Intro - Game] Let's make it big Pharell Wake up in the morning, oh sh**! Had to co*k the 9, n***as tryin' to steal my pits Went out the back door, see them n***as hit the fence I'm telling you, life in Compton is a b**h Let off a couple shots, God damn, I missed Say f** it anyway, and let off the whole clip I'm not to be f**ed with, when I'm off liquor Old English in my system, ‘bout to k** me a n***a See, I remember back in the days, loadin' my AK Ridin' ‘round in my Impala with my lungs full of haze That's when I didn't give a f**, now I got my son Shoot a n***a, he die, public enemy number one But, this ain't no action flick, no Johnny Depp sh** When the Tec spit hollow tips in your Lexus So. Don't f** with a Compton n***a when he packin' the gat Yeah, n***a, I stay strapped [Hook - Pharell] Somethin' hot in here n***a, it must be me! (x2) Is it the shades? Is it the J‘s? Is it the Bentley with the full color ways? Or the old-school sittin' on blades What could be? [Game] It's 2-o'-clock in the afternoon, I'm ‘bout to roll a Swisher ‘Cause that's what real n***as do when they at home Watchin' ESPN on the 70-inch flat screen K-Gs and Wade jerseys, blowin' chronic, that green Gave up the hoop dreams, bubble with the crack dreams Turn hood zombies into a Olympic track team ‘Till I got shot, and infiltrated the rap scene Had to clean my life up, Doc gave me the vaccine Don't get it twisted, I still click-clack things Red beam attached to each and every strap That I keep locked up in my basement If I shoot a n***a, will the Lord forgive Jayceon? I don't know, still got a sick fetish for shoot-outs and car chases f** Pacino, ‘cause we know n***as with scarfaces And we go back, like D-Boys and small faces And we crashin' new Ferraris while ya'll hatin' Pharrell I think it's [Hook] Somethin' hot in here n***a, it must be me! (x2) Is it the shades? Is it the J‘s? Is it the Bentley with the full color ways? Or the old-school sittin' on blades What could it be? You know the answer, fool [Game] n***as cain't f** with me, real spit I guess I am a motherf**ing legend, Will Smith All I'm missin' is a b**h like Jada, Bonnie & Clyde sh** Hit the fence like later, sayonara, arrivederci Black rose Phantom, interior hearse sh** And I got some kisses from a couple Brooklyn b**hes Them hoes'll never testify, peace to Common But Game keep it hood like weaves and Top Ramen Never stop coming for the top If the ba** a flesh wound and Pharrell a head shot Motherf**er, and when he take aim Bullets enter your frame, my bars simi-lar To a dragon swalloin' flames Cain't walk through the club and take a piss Without these new school rap n***as on my dick While you f** around with your j**elry and all your whips I pull up with your b**h pumpin' gangsta sh** Now you know [Hook] Somethin' hot in here n***a, it must be me! (x2) Is it the shades? Is it the J‘s? Is it the Bentley with the full color ways? Or the old-school sittin' on blades What could it be? You know the answer, fool Do ya thing, shawty Do ya thing, shawty Do ya thing, shawty E'rybody lookin' now (x2) Go Go Go Go Go Go E'rybody lookin' now (x2)