still me lyrics – the game

(feat. ikay & mya)

[intro – ikay]
yow! a weh di f*ck do dem?
black wallstreet, cry nation,
from kingston to compton… ha ha,
yow game! weh yuh deh pon?
ha ha… dem fi know,
game! f*ck wid dem.

[verse 1 – the game]
straight outta the motherf*ckin p*ssy hallway in the projects,
to park in a four door bentley on my set,
same hood, same motherf*ckin steps i sat on and took the plastic off of “life after death”,
bangin, boning biggie biggie i did a 360,
the aftermath for that is the n*gg* 50 ain’t wit me,
no hard feelings, we both made millions,
you can hate me or love me but n*gg* i spit real sh*t,
like i’m comatose, tell the doc i’m sick,
before “detox”, let me take my last chronic hit.
now i am gangsta rap,
inhale the weed smoke and coughed up five platinum plaques,
so i’m a let the n*gg* dr. dre hit,
next time i have dreams of f*ckin an r&b b*tch,
i don’t make love, i make hits,
i put a condom on and stuff my d*ck in this hip hop sh*t.

[chorus – mya]
feels good…
still hood…

[verse 2 – the game]
i’m that six figure n*gg*,
who got the word from krs-one and stole the blueprint from jigga,
n*gg*z yellin game did this, game did that,
game ain’t do sh*t but bring the motherf*ckin west coast back,
i hear the whisperin goin on in the hood,
i sent a motherf*ckin hallmark card to suge,
that n*gg* know that we all good,
so you can catch a cab to h*ll wit them death threats i’m already dead,
i put the .38 revolver to my own f*ckin head,
before i let the sh*t eat my conscience,
ain’t a n*gg* in the world could tell me i can’t come thru compton,
before i retire my converse, i’ll ride the train thru nyc with the terrorist bombers,
somebody tell my mama i’m crazy,
poppa was a rolling stone so that makes me a crack baby,
i’m in rehab three times a week,
because i’m a motherf*ckin fiend for a dr. dre beat.

[chorus – mya]
feels good…
still hood…

[verse 3 – ikay]
uh, yea! uh,
it’s da motherf*ckin i dot,
jamaica on my back,
ten pounds of weed on my block,
cops coming, hide that,
i’m so f*ckin blessed,
straight off da river, so f*cking fresh,
mi got mi chopper pon mi,
p*ssyhole! suck yuh mother, tek yuh eyes off mi rapper money,
got respect fi di shottas only,
stick to the streets like cheese to macaroni,
a weh di f*ck do dem,
five shots, a duppy dem,
glock innah mi hand, mi a go fi dem,
big dog never scared ah di puppy dem,
i got no love fi dem,
got slugs fi dem,
i be on some street sh*t,
weed in my eyes so i can’t see sh*t,
be on some g sh*t,
let dem n*gg*z talk, run up on you wit da hawk and squeeze clips,
they wanna know where da n*gg* from,
kingston jamaica got dem n*gg*z bombed,
i’m never wrong,
i am the the street motherf*ckas, here i am.

[chorus – mya]
feels good…
still hood…

/ the game lyrics