Yeah, big spit, it's that Bay Area game, Sean T beats
We feedin the underground with this Yay Area tycoon shit
For my nigga JT Fig', y'all know where it come from
Never forget it, that Bay Area shit mayne
Y'knahmtalkinbout? Yeah!
Game, spit that shit
[The Game]
Hey yo the kid still at it, woke up from that coma
Seen hell came back and here comes my first classic
Still chop it up at the table, still put dope in the bag
and still got dope, under the mattress
It was hustle before rappin, nuttin before that and
12 years old, a lost soul, bumpin "Illmatic"
Gunshots tried and almost took the young kid's live
Can't do it I been through it the young kid survived
Got the ghetto on my shoulder homey, it's gon' be a long ride
Bear with me, I'ma take you there with me
Show you how the sun shine in one rhyme, no more stormy weather
Streets is mine, we gon' live forever
Get it together 'Pac is watchin, Big is listenin
Eazy is talkin to us, Big Pun is witnessin
While they souls still glistenin in ghettos from Compton to Brooklyn
the shells cry, every hood's anthem
Where everybody goes to church and prayers are never answered
And they throwin us curveballs but we Hank Aarons
A picture with no canvas, streets are so skanless
Young'uns jump rope, play ball with fiends and dope handlers
Teenage mothers, deadbeat fathers, no families
Lost and often runaway or live with grandparents
