Various Artists - What the Game Made Me 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 n***a what? Live as f** (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 n***as in the mix Knowin I outcla** three-E n***as in the six So I outblast til it's empty clips And I outlast n***as, 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 n***as gonna rumble when you backs on the wall Jive n***as gonna crumble and fall Chorus Verse Two: Memphis Bleek Aiyyo whether in the Pinto, or rollin in the six I come through co*ky, holdin my dick I never switch sh**, cause that's some b**h sh** 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 n***a that's, holdin the torch Preachin sh** like the crack game, don't take shorts Throw it down it's a bet, n***a 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 n***as 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, ho I don't know, to get deez Never, "Excuse me miss," b**h 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 f** 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 n***as 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)