The Game - Confessions Of A Desperate Man lyrics

Yeah Like, how many n***as can write without writing? sh**, I got to be in the top five already Game Game I'm not new to this sh**, homie I been in it Six years dying to be heard by the masters I'm not too hot to drop in ten minutes Pac' was the sh**, but I'm fine being cla**ic Need more time to dispense my thoughts out Intense as it sounds, rap relieves stress So every bar delivered was a mental thought Amazing, sh** like a burden off my chest B16 is a , Doc' is a beat playing through the g-force Understand the volume of the studio sessions Walking, talking, block of C4 Might explode on the next n***a pressing my bu*tons Keep pressing ya luck, go on, try it again Have you wake up in the ER, counting your blessings Confessions of a desperate man, dying to win Trying to walk the right way, gotta steal the past So hard to be righteous when I feel them laugh Cause when the bomb blow you gonna fell the blast Confessions of a desperate man, dying to pa** n***as sleep in the hood, sleep with medals Sleep with heat or with a shank But the truth, protect me over they drama I keep it hood, keep it ghetto, keep it street, keep it gangster And the youth, respect me more than they momma Cause I'm soldier for the cause in the army of the Christ I'm here to let ya'll know man he not some nice f*g I know I got flaws, but whatever my vice Still my motto is "I ain't got no price tag" All I thought was the worst, burnt out from oppression From seeing my people being k**ed by America But what I thought was a curse, turned out to be a blessing Cause all ya'll Europeans did was build my character I'm trying to purify it in the furnace of affliction Tired of hearing my peoples cries from your lashes So I ride with a heart burning with conviction It's the fire you're fearing, it's the phoenix rising from the ashes Trying to walk the right way, gotta steal the past So hard to be righteous when I feel them laugh Cause when the bomb blow you gonna fell the blast Confessions of a desperate man, dying to pa** Hurricane n***as politicking, wanna know why I'm rhyming different My best friend got murdered, homie, my mind is different If you ain't never spent no time in prison, you can't understand these bars of the lines I'm spitting n***as riling me up, let's go, find a victor I can't do it homie that's the reason Shyne in prison Through divine intervention, ten plus years doing crime in the trenches Multiplied by the time we spent in the kitchen That's a life worth of hard living, Cuban cigar tipping Twelfth grade b**hing, purple swerve by the jar sipping If you lost a homie you know friendship is god given I done seen the church so much you'd think I was born Christian I done seen more dead bodies than a mortician Seen n***as in and out of county blues like they was born crippin So I'm a keep on living cause when you gone n***as ain't gonna do sh** but f*ck your b**h and pour liquor, this ones for my n***as All my homeboys who died in the struggle And all my n***as still alive Be what you are, and say what you feel, cause those who matter, don't mind, and those who mind, don't matter It's still California love n***a...