Why You Hate the Game Lyrics
| Song | Why You Hate the Game |
| Artist | The Game |
| Album | Doctor's Advocate |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Ambrosius, Ambrosius, Jones ... | |
| (Nas - Intro) | |
| Y'all know what it is... | |
| The streets named me Illmatic, for that I'm still at it.. | |
| Can't hate us.... | |
| Fellas... | |
| (Nas - Verse 1) | |
| Vice behind me on the intersection, | |
| Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection, | |
| Dress superb, admired by conspirers, | |
| Who wanna try me, but ain't high enough to four-five me up, | |
| Child of the eighties, y'all niggas is lazy, | |
| Complain about labour pains, nigga show me the baby, | |
| And my nigga Game, light another L, pass the bottle, | |
| Pro-black, I don't take cotton out of aspirin bottles, | |
| Yeah, I learnt my lessons, and heard y'all snitchin', | |
| Witnessin' you rockin'(?) with Nas, confirmed my suspicion, | |
| Green fatigues on, My niggas I bleed for 'em, | |
| I can show 'em the water, but can't make 'em drink it, | |
| And I can show 'em my fortunes but can't force 'em to think rich, | |
| And still I don't abort 'em (?) when and if they sink quick, | |
| Ignore the ignorance, I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge, | |
| And pray to fans, let Murder Inc. live... | |
| (Marsha- chours) | |
| (The Game) | |
| I don't talk about my guns, niggaa I just blaze.... | |
| (The Game - Verse 2) | |
| 'Pac is watchin', Big is listenin', | |
| While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin', | |
| To every nigga listenin' | |
| I was supposed to be amongst kings, my Mom shouted out at my Christening. | |
| And while you still listenin', Shyne locked in a man hole, | |
| Cam got shot inside his lambo', sample, life is a gamble, | |
| 15 years old red rag around my hand, My sisters used to laugh and call me 'Rambo', | |
| Seen Eazy's legacy melt away like a candle, | |
| I rekindled the flame, | |
| Dre created The Game, | |
| Niggaa with an attitude from the cloth I came, | |
| Young homie ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain. | |
| Keep the crown, clown, I rock an LA Dodger Fitted, | |
| I showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down with it, | |
| Now the ball's in my court, never dribble out of bounds with it. | |
| Behind the back to Nas, he alley oop to Jigga, Nigga | |
| (Marsha- chours) | |
| (Verse 3) | |
| Me and nasty puffin', this a classic, trust me, | |
| How you gon' pass the dutchie (?) to them niggas that don't love me, | |
| I'm talkin' niggas that never wanted to see me on top, | |
| Same niggas that never wanted to see the Doctor's Advocate drop, flop, I think not, | |
| I'll f**k you rap niggas like virgins, | |
| Dre took my training wheels off his curtains. | |
| I don't need no encore, no claps, no cheers, | |
| The Game ain't over, this the beginning of my career, | |
| The ending of yours, the endin of his, | |
| Like Flavor Flav's clock, I'm back to handle my biz, | |
| Nigga, it's Game Time, that was Dre's favorite line, | |
| Back when proof was in the booth and I recited his lines, | |
| And I still think about my nigga from time to time, | |
| Make me wanna call 50, and let him know what's on my mind, | |
| But I just hold back 'cause we ain't beefin like that, | |
| He aint Big, and I ain't Pac, and we just eatin off rap. | |
| One love. | |
| (8 Bars) | |
| I'll do Marsha's bit if you want, but it seems kinda pointless. | |
| I thought Nas was on point with his multis, the cotton line is a bit old though. | |
| (Marsha- chours) |
| zuo qu : Ambrosius, Ambrosius, Jones ... | |
| Nas Intro | |
| Y' all know what it is... | |
| The streets named me Illmatic, for that I' m still at it.. | |
| Can' t hate us.... | |
| Fellas... | |
| Nas Verse 1 | |
| Vice behind me on the intersection, | |
| Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection, | |
| Dress superb, admired by conspirers, | |
| Who wanna try me, but ain' t high enough to fourfive me up, | |
| Child of the eighties, y' all niggas is lazy, | |
| Complain about labour pains, nigga show me the baby, | |
| And my nigga Game, light another L, pass the bottle, | |
| Problack, I don' t take cotton out of aspirin bottles, | |
| Yeah, I learnt my lessons, and heard y' all snitchin', | |
| Witnessin' you rockin'? with Nas, confirmed my suspicion, | |
| Green fatigues on, My niggas I bleed for ' em, | |
| I can show ' em the water, but can' t make ' em drink it, | |
| And I can show ' em my fortunes but can' t force ' em to think rich, | |
| And still I don' t abort ' em ? when and if they sink quick, | |
| Ignore the ignorance, I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge, | |
| And pray to fans, let Murder Inc. live... | |
| Marsha chours | |
| The Game | |
| I don' t talk about my guns, niggaa I just blaze.... | |
| The Game Verse 2 | |
| ' Pac is watchin', Big is listenin', | |
| While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin', | |
| To every nigga listenin' | |
| I was supposed to be amongst kings, my Mom shouted out at my Christening. | |
| And while you still listenin', Shyne locked in a man hole, | |
| Cam got shot inside his lambo', sample, life is a gamble, | |
| 15 years old red rag around my hand, My sisters used to laugh and call me ' Rambo', | |
| Seen Eazy' s legacy melt away like a candle, | |
| I rekindled the flame, | |
| Dre created The Game, | |
| Niggaa with an attitude from the cloth I came, | |
| Young homie ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain. | |
| Keep the crown, clown, I rock an LA Dodger Fitted, | |
| I showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down with it, | |
| Now the ball' s in my court, never dribble out of bounds with it. | |
| Behind the back to Nas, he alley oop to Jigga, Nigga | |
| Marsha chours | |
| Verse 3 | |
| Me and nasty puffin', this a classic, trust me, | |
| How you gon' pass the dutchie ? to them niggas that don' t love me, | |
| I' m talkin' niggas that never wanted to see me on top, | |
| Same niggas that never wanted to see the Doctor' s Advocate drop, flop, I think not, | |
| I' ll f k you rap niggas like virgins, | |
| Dre took my training wheels off his curtains. | |
| I don' t need no encore, no claps, no cheers, | |
| The Game ain' t over, this the beginning of my career, | |
| The ending of yours, the endin of his, | |
| Like Flavor Flav' s clock, I' m back to handle my biz, | |
| Nigga, it' s Game Time, that was Dre' s favorite line, | |
| Back when proof was in the booth and I recited his lines, | |
| And I still think about my nigga from time to time, | |
| Make me wanna call 50, and let him know what' s on my mind, | |
| But I just hold back ' cause we ain' t beefin like that, | |
| He aint Big, and I ain' t Pac, and we just eatin off rap. | |
| One love. | |
| 8 Bars | |
| I' ll do Marsha' s bit if you want, but it seems kinda pointless. | |
| I thought Nas was on point with his multis, the cotton line is a bit old though. | |
| Marsha chours |
| zuò qǔ : Ambrosius, Ambrosius, Jones ... | |
| Nas Intro | |
| Y' all know what it is... | |
| The streets named me Illmatic, for that I' m still at it.. | |
| Can' t hate us.... | |
| Fellas... | |
| Nas Verse 1 | |
| Vice behind me on the intersection, | |
| Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection, | |
| Dress superb, admired by conspirers, | |
| Who wanna try me, but ain' t high enough to fourfive me up, | |
| Child of the eighties, y' all niggas is lazy, | |
| Complain about labour pains, nigga show me the baby, | |
| And my nigga Game, light another L, pass the bottle, | |
| Problack, I don' t take cotton out of aspirin bottles, | |
| Yeah, I learnt my lessons, and heard y' all snitchin', | |
| Witnessin' you rockin'? with Nas, confirmed my suspicion, | |
| Green fatigues on, My niggas I bleed for ' em, | |
| I can show ' em the water, but can' t make ' em drink it, | |
| And I can show ' em my fortunes but can' t force ' em to think rich, | |
| And still I don' t abort ' em ? when and if they sink quick, | |
| Ignore the ignorance, I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge, | |
| And pray to fans, let Murder Inc. live... | |
| Marsha chours | |
| The Game | |
| I don' t talk about my guns, niggaa I just blaze.... | |
| The Game Verse 2 | |
| ' Pac is watchin', Big is listenin', | |
| While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin', | |
| To every nigga listenin' | |
| I was supposed to be amongst kings, my Mom shouted out at my Christening. | |
| And while you still listenin', Shyne locked in a man hole, | |
| Cam got shot inside his lambo', sample, life is a gamble, | |
| 15 years old red rag around my hand, My sisters used to laugh and call me ' Rambo', | |
| Seen Eazy' s legacy melt away like a candle, | |
| I rekindled the flame, | |
| Dre created The Game, | |
| Niggaa with an attitude from the cloth I came, | |
| Young homie ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain. | |
| Keep the crown, clown, I rock an LA Dodger Fitted, | |
| I showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down with it, | |
| Now the ball' s in my court, never dribble out of bounds with it. | |
| Behind the back to Nas, he alley oop to Jigga, Nigga | |
| Marsha chours | |
| Verse 3 | |
| Me and nasty puffin', this a classic, trust me, | |
| How you gon' pass the dutchie ? to them niggas that don' t love me, | |
| I' m talkin' niggas that never wanted to see me on top, | |
| Same niggas that never wanted to see the Doctor' s Advocate drop, flop, I think not, | |
| I' ll f k you rap niggas like virgins, | |
| Dre took my training wheels off his curtains. | |
| I don' t need no encore, no claps, no cheers, | |
| The Game ain' t over, this the beginning of my career, | |
| The ending of yours, the endin of his, | |
| Like Flavor Flav' s clock, I' m back to handle my biz, | |
| Nigga, it' s Game Time, that was Dre' s favorite line, | |
| Back when proof was in the booth and I recited his lines, | |
| And I still think about my nigga from time to time, | |
| Make me wanna call 50, and let him know what' s on my mind, | |
| But I just hold back ' cause we ain' t beefin like that, | |
| He aint Big, and I ain' t Pac, and we just eatin off rap. | |
| One love. | |
| 8 Bars | |
| I' ll do Marsha' s bit if you want, but it seems kinda pointless. | |
| I thought Nas was on point with his multis, the cotton line is a bit old though. | |
| Marsha chours |
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