Testo The Game Lives On

Testo The Game Lives On

Black hoods, cops and projectsSewers flooded wit foul blockageThe gutters wild and every child watchesChains and top locks get ripped off hindges, doors kicked offDrunks stagger off, smeared off, wipe your beard offCrippled dope fiends in wheelchairs stare, vision blurryCause burried deep in their mind are hidden storiesBet he's a mirror image of the 70's errorhe's finished for the rest of his life til he fades outthe liquor store workers miss him but then it plays outSo many ways out the hood, but no signs say outMental slave house where gats go offI show off, niggas up northPrisonology talks till they time cut offYou used to chill you short, prepare deep thoughtThey hit the streets again, get it onGet this paper and breed againPlanet leave somethin behind, so your name will live onNo matter what the game lives on......Chorus: (there is no chorus, the beat just plays on)Uh, yo, if this pianosThe cake and my words to the candlesLight it up, make a wish and them angel swill grant youAnd patience one try, puttin those angles as bambooThey lit it up, (nas inhales 2 times)hit it up, (nas inhales once) now they dismantleThink the whole world is crazy, got a nineWatch where you walk, two dollar fineSign of the times, hearin New York high satinUnited Nations quietly takin toll on your soultake it or leave it, just my evaluationStack newly guns, teach the girls karate school your sonsNot to hate, but to stay awakeCause the scars a razor make is nothin in comparisonTo the gas left on his whole mask, if we dont get it controlled fastMight as well be, laughing with Malcom X's assassinAs we die slow, parishin brain dead from an EricsonWords of the medicine, two teaspoons for goonsA couple of it for those thuggin itYall sing the tune.......ChorusAnother day another dollar my mother will hollerShe said go and see the world for myself, in my brothers ImpalaPops was smooth from his top to his shoesHe sang the blues, guitar strings he played Smokin in SchoolTwo pellican hats, picture this yo, 70's catHe rolled his music in the back of the crib, I did my homeworkAt night the windows and speakers, pumpin life outA fight people screamin, cause somebody pulled a knife outSo I look at this room, I'm hooked to this tuneEvery night the same melodyHell soundin so heavenly...........
Testi di Nas