Faith Evans, The Game - Don't Need Your Love lyrics
[Faith Evans, The Game - Don't Need Your Love lyrics]
Yo Havoc
I'm too close to the edge on this one nigga
I ain't gon' jump though
I'ma keep it raw gutter
Yo Prodigy
You know I need you on this one nigga
I got shit on my chest, I must confess
Last night I was the nigga
That shot up your projects
Now I'm back in the hood
With rocks in the Pyrex
Tan khakis and them Nike Airs
With the dyed checks
I was forced to live this life
Forced to bust my chrome
My pops left me in a foster home
I felt abandoned like Quik
Now that Mausberg gone
So I don't hop in the
SS without the Mossberg homes
I've been rappin for a year and a half
My life is real
Put the gun in his mouth
He gon' bite the steel
Come to Compton, I got stripes for real
Before Dre, before the ice
Before the deal - I was almost killed
Like 'Pac before the Death Row deal
I got shot over two pounds of weed
Still ain't found them niggaz
But karma come quicker for a nigga on
The other side of the gun
That's somethin I gotta teach my son
I don't need your love, no no no no
I don't need your love
Need it, I don't want it, I don't need it
I don't need your love
No I don't need your love
I don't need your love
Cause, the, game, don't, change
I heard they got Bloods in New York now
Red rags in Uptown Harlem now
I need that love
Front court at the Knicks game, new chick
French name
New car, new house
And sometimes friends change
And you don't need that love
When you G's like us
And your Jesus piece is
Sim-u lar to Biggie's
And your life story is sim-u lar to 50's
First they hate you, then they love you
Then they hate you again
What the fuck do it take
For a gangsta to win?
No mics, no +Unsigned Hype+
Nigga FUCK The Source
Plus them awards I don't need
And them niggaz breathin the same air as me
Actin like they don't bleed
We don't drive the same speed
This a Continental T
That's a case of Armadale
This a continental suite
So I'ma drown in my own sorrows
Live life, fuck tomorrow
Nigga cause reality is
I was gassed up, Murder Inc.
Roc-A-Fella passed up
Sat in Daddy's House with Black Rob
And Lou and asked Puff
Now The Game set in stone
The Frank Muniz set in stones
Dre cut me a check, I'm gone
Tryin to be the king of the streets
Niggaz'll wet your throne
But I got nieces to feed
Two coasts to please
So I roam through the city
Like the ghost of E
Gotta put Compton back where
It's 'sposed to be
Nuttin between all my niggaz
That's close to me
In the streets with two fellas
Packin toast for me
I'm 'posed to be
Got all the critics watchin my pivot
On my block in the Coupe
Readin kites from prison
I got niggaz doin life in prison
All my fallen soldiers is one of
The reasons we pour out liquor
So this song is for Ms. Wallace, Afeni Shakur
And all the mothers of dead sons
That went out in the war
I'm too close to the edge on this one nigga
I ain't gon' jump though
I'ma keep it raw gutter
Yo Prodigy
You know I need you on this one nigga
I got shit on my chest, I must confess
Last night I was the nigga
That shot up your projects
Now I'm back in the hood
With rocks in the Pyrex
Tan khakis and them Nike Airs
With the dyed checks
I was forced to live this life
Forced to bust my chrome
My pops left me in a foster home
I felt abandoned like Quik
Now that Mausberg gone
So I don't hop in the
SS without the Mossberg homes
I've been rappin for a year and a half
My life is real
Put the gun in his mouth
He gon' bite the steel
Come to Compton, I got stripes for real
Before Dre, before the ice
Before the deal - I was almost killed
Like 'Pac before the Death Row deal
I got shot over two pounds of weed
Still ain't found them niggaz
But karma come quicker for a nigga on
The other side of the gun
That's somethin I gotta teach my son
I don't need your love, no no no no
I don't need your love
Need it, I don't want it, I don't need it
I don't need your love
No I don't need your love
I don't need your love
Cause, the, game, don't, change
I heard they got Bloods in New York now
Red rags in Uptown Harlem now
I need that love
Front court at the Knicks game, new chick
French name
New car, new house
And sometimes friends change
And you don't need that love
When you G's like us
And your Jesus piece is
Sim-u lar to Biggie's
And your life story is sim-u lar to 50's
First they hate you, then they love you
Then they hate you again
What the fuck do it take
For a gangsta to win?
No mics, no +Unsigned Hype+
Nigga FUCK The Source
Plus them awards I don't need
And them niggaz breathin the same air as me
Actin like they don't bleed
We don't drive the same speed
This a Continental T
That's a case of Armadale
This a continental suite
So I'ma drown in my own sorrows
Live life, fuck tomorrow
Nigga cause reality is
I was gassed up, Murder Inc.
Roc-A-Fella passed up
Sat in Daddy's House with Black Rob
And Lou and asked Puff
Now The Game set in stone
The Frank Muniz set in stones
Dre cut me a check, I'm gone
Tryin to be the king of the streets
Niggaz'll wet your throne
But I got nieces to feed
Two coasts to please
So I roam through the city
Like the ghost of E
Gotta put Compton back where
It's 'sposed to be
Nuttin between all my niggaz
That's close to me
In the streets with two fellas
Packin toast for me
I'm 'posed to be
Got all the critics watchin my pivot
On my block in the Coupe
Readin kites from prison
I got niggaz doin life in prison
All my fallen soldiers is one of
The reasons we pour out liquor
So this song is for Ms. Wallace, Afeni Shakur
And all the mothers of dead sons
That went out in the war