Rick Ross, The Game - Save The Best For Last lyrics

M-M-Maybach Music

Pray for the days when the
Failure was a phase
Or hate was the case but they
Tell you to your face
The top came down so I never hit the brakes
The bitches came out
So we the niggas they would chase
Envy was the norm
We the children in the corn
Black male, pickin' cotton
Hustles came in different forms
Started with the pies, real ones lost lives
Such a dirty game, now my hand sanitized
I buckled down in a Porsche
Buttoned up, Tom Ford
Head stay on a swivel
They want your boy in a morgue
But fuck 'em, I want a war
Butt fuckin' 'em, slow, raw


Pertaining only to women, my lady
Know I'm a lord
Lord
Forgive me for all my wrongs
Killin' niggas for sneakers and shit
That's said in a song
Puttin' homies in check instead
Of puttin' 'em on
I'm always put to the test
Real ones finishing strong

Fresh up out the gutter, nigga, yeah
And I can never be them other niggas
I don't come through blood niggas
A semi not on me
Exchange words and shots with like
Ten of my homies
And no matter what I do, I'm not good enough
Drive-bys, blood splattered on my shoe
I'm not hood enough
But why cry?
I Waka Flocka Flame, hit your block up
Thug life, it's in my veins, go dig Pac up
I'm where Pac was, only difference
Got my Glock up
'Cause I been shot up
It's time to balance out my chakras
I'm not the same motherfucker that
I used to be
I'm H.E.R., acoustically
You niggas gon' get used to me
I'm tired of niggas usin' me, abusin' me
Usually, I make a call
Get the windows knocked out
Your motherfuckin' eulogy
Imagine niggas shootin' me, yeah
Compton was like a zoo to me
I'm a lion, king of my jungle
That's why it ain't no
Gettin' through to me
For my first album, early 2000s
I was with the foolery
Outside the L'Ermitage
Could've got Fab for all his jewelry
Ain't even really know how to rap yet
I was just a Click Clack vet'
Go find my nigga AR and ask him
If you wanna fact check
Y'all heard it first (Y'all heard it first)
I ain't even told Fab yet
This might affect our friendship, nigga
I ain't even ask yet
I ain't even have half of an Aftermath check
All in Brooklyn with you and Clue on
The corner with my rag just
Hangin' in the wind
With the stainless in the Benz
Brainless when it spins
And I aim it for all my friends
That go for Ross too
I brought a gun and some chalk too
For openin' up doors
It cost a Maybach just to walk through
And on my dark days
I walk inside a dark booth
Speak what's on my mind but they
Ain't ready for the hard truth
You can't call yourself king
When I taught you
Brought you a classic for you and
All your niggas to spark to
I ought to, nah, fuck it
'Cause even Nikki Giovanni had James
Baldwin to talk to
So I get high
Then I swan dive in a shark pool
With the same red bandana
"Start From Scratch" part two
Nas got the part
So I went and got the part too
Snoop went and pulled the rag out, shit
I went and bought that car too
That shit was hard too
Run up on it while my son inside it
The .40'll spin your ass
Around like a barstool
Let Jesus take the wheel, I step on the gas
I wanted a million like Aaliyah
I wish that she never crashed
And I only made it this far
'cause I always knew the task
Understood my greatness and over
Stood all the math
I don't need your love or the credit
I always got cash
And even now
My 2020 vision is somewhere in the past
Who the next rapper murdered? Every month
A nigga pass
But me, I'm still alive
I guess they saved the best for last