The Game - Ricky lyrics

[The Game - Ricky lyrics]

"Shit! Rick!
C'mon man! "

"Ricky! "
"Help me! Help me! Somebody, help me! "
"Ricky, Ricky! "
"Ricky! "

Blood of a slave, heart of a giant
Had to leave Aftermath
Dre said I was too defiant
That was five years ago, look how fast it go
Destroyin' Interscope
Shot myself like Plaxico
But fuck that, blaze one
Where the matches yo?
Hit the freeway and see how fast the Aston go
Roll the window down, clip off the ashes so
You can see all my diamonds and
How much cash I blow
How many bitches I fuck
How many cars I drive
How many goons I got
Count 'em and they all outside
Niggas try to shut me up like Malcom
But standin' in the window caine
Smoking was the outcome
Sometimes I get a little stressed
And pop a Valium
Hit Hollywood late night and
Knock down a stallion
So niggas think twice about my medallion or
You'll hear Cuba Gooding yelling "Ricky! "
My nostalgia is one hundred percent
Compton and zero percent snitch
Park a Bentley and the Phantom on
Blocks while I use the bitch
Made the Cincinnati fitted more
Famous than Griffey did
And just to think
Several years ago they tried to split his wig
Two to the chest, struck his heart
One hit his rib
Then I blacked out, like a movie
All I could hear

Feelin' all fucked up, woke up to a doctor
All I could think about
Was that the cops took my
Weed and my choppers
They want me to sing, like Sinatra
I told the detective
Get this clear like Belvedere vodka
Them five shots created a monster
Hell's Kitchen comin' straight
Out of Compton
I seen Boyz in the Hood
Morris Chestnut was a actor
2Pac was the real life "Ricky! "
Then they shot down the nigga that shot him
I swear to God
If I'm lying then Compton is
New York and I'm Rakim
I'm from where niggas get
Murdered over stock rims
And punched in the jaw just for a cocked brim
Nobody mama let the cops in
We ain't got no options
Wanted to be a boxer, but I was boxed in
Then my grandmother house went up for auction
And that's what killed her
I'm goin' back to buy the block then
Too many niggas locked in
Dig up Cochran and defend all my niggas
With they faith under stockings
Rather face God then 25 with no options
If Compton ain't the murder capital
We in the top ten
Drive by with our face painted, like a clown
With a tre-pound
Forty shells bouncin' off the ground
This how my living room sound
When my brother got shot down

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