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confessions of a desperate man - the game lyrics

yeah
like, how many n-ggas can write without writing?
sh-t, i got to be in the top five already
game
game
i’m not new to this sh-t, 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-t, but i’m fine being cl-ssic
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-t 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-gga pressing my b-ttons
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 p-ss
n-ggas 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!lled 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 p-ss
hurricane
n-ggas 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-ggas 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-tching, 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-ggas in and out of county blues like they was born crippin
so i’m a keep on living cause when you gone n-ggas ain’t gonna do sh-t but f-ck your b-tch and pour liquor, this ones for my n-ggas
all my homeboys who died in the struggle
and all my n-ggas 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-gga…

- the game lyrics

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