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recognize my life - jim brown lyrics

[verse 1: game]
let me tell you why i do this sh-t
i’m a son of a gun cause moms was a hoover crip
first day i got signed i had to prove i spit
freestyle with busta rhymes (busta: son, duke is sick)
the protege of doc dre, i could finally put the shoes on
now that the rumors of rakim and cube gone
they say truth hurts, sunk like quick sand
don’t stop me in traffic and ask about hittman
i gotta restore the feeling that crawled from under the rock
after tha dogg pound crushed the buildings
i got a family to feed, i’m the middle of 9 children
we can talk about a loan after i sell 5 million
if i tell you i ain’t game and i don’t know dre
you goin’ do me like xzibit and cut half of my face?
i take all the credit for putting the west back on the map
if you ain’t feeling that, guess i’m guerrilla black

[hook: kendrick lamar]
recognize my life
ridicule my fight
give me fuel for the fire burning when i yearn these lights
in the midst of the hieroglyphs my fingertips start to write
get familiar with cartwright
cause i want that shot, i’m a raging bull when the needle drops
for the record, i’mma wreck it, even if my record don’t pop
i’mma tie a knot on a downtown building, let it tow behind me tell ’em
they can find me in the dark with the ghetto children look at my heart
n-gga f-ck your feelings, this is me

[verse 2: young jeezy]
patty cake, patty cake, microwave
suckas make a square, godd-mn i’m paid (ha ha)
i’m so cool, but i’m so hot, and
i’m, i’m so fly, and you, you’re so not (nope)
show me what you’re workin’ with just like that (like that)
turn around, bend over, bring it back (bring it back)
snowman and mannie fresh bring it back (bring it back)
it’s mannie fresh and snowman, it’s a wrap
strapped up in the club, yeah i’m so crazy
these other rappers actors like patrick swayze (ha ha)
i tried to tell ’em but these n-ggas ain’t hearin’ me
mossberg pump i’m ridin’ shotgun literally (daaamn)
live from the projects, you know what it is
ay, snowman, (what up), can i get a ad lib? (yeahhhhhhh)
get the club crunk, can’t take that from me
ain’t dropped yet, still got lil’ jon money
i got million dollar dreams and federal nightmares (ay)
we pop cris’ my n-gga, and still drink beers (dat’s riiight)
what did you expect man, i came from nothin’ (nothin)
real street n-gga and wouldn’t change for nothin’ (nah)
got my n-ggas out the hood, it’s such a wonderful feeling (chea)
three car garage with the twelve foot ceilings (ay)
it oughta be a crime just to feel this good
i swear it oughta be a crime just to be this hood (ayy)

[verse 3: birdman]
fresh wit’ the hustle so we bounce back on them suckers
blowin’ big doin’ gigs got it ran in hundreds
they reppin’ layin’ here we stuntin’
on the grind all the time homie gettin’ money
3rd ward soldier 13th gangsta
17th hustler known top ranker
money go getter them clowns can’t figure
poppin’ at the mouth like this cutter won’t split ’em
know how to survive hustlin’ stayin’ fly
my whole hood cried when my lil’ brother died
know i had to ride never let it slide
it’s just the g in me and i’mma get it til i die daddy
brush the platinum grab the straps homie make it happen
comin’ through my neighborhood with 4’s on the caddy
limo tints out the pound and uptown crackin’
red bandanna duckin’ feds and the money stackin’
rest in peace to miss gladys like e’eryday
we on the grind for the shine and we gon’ get paid
spent a mill’ on the wheels custom wit’ the navi’
2 of the same whips we doin’ it big livin’ lavish

- jim brown lyrics

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