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Game

Genres: Hip-Hop

True Colors/it's On [explicit] Lyrics - Game

This ain't nothin' nigga. All this gang bangin' shit? It ain't nothin' homie, it ain't nothin'. I'd give it up, I'm in this shit for a purpose man. I got a reason dude to get up out of this shit nigga. All that shit ain't nothin' homie. Ask yourself what color is the flag? (Red, white, and blue). Yup, red, white, and blue. Now what two colors did we pick? I'm talkin' bout we as black people, what two colors? Think about it, we picked red and blue, what's left? White. Damn right nigga we killin' each other homie 

 

I am a nightmare walking, psychopath talking 

King of my jungle just a gangster stalking 

Living life like a firecracker quick is my fuse 

Then dead as a deathpack the colors I choose 

Red or blue, cuz or blood, it just don't matter 

 

My daddy was from Nutty Blocc 

My uncle was from Nutty Blocc 

My mama was from Hoover, how she end up here cuttin' rock? 

Four year old on her lap, that was my older sister 

Photos of Tookie and my father, now you get the picture 

Cutlass outside on D's, you think it wasn't 

15 inches, had Computer Love, subbin' 

My parents bout to see Rocky at the Compton Drive In 

Halfway through the movie her stomach start throbbin' 

My pops start panicin', moms in the passenger seat 

Scared of contractions so she's stiff as a mannequin 

Pops put the car in reverse and then skrt'd out 

"Drive motherfucker" them the words my mom skrt'd out 

80 down Wilmington, pull up at Killer King 

Rush my mama to her room and let the doctor do his thing 

Was a whole lotta blood, yeah I was born in it 

Gang banging my family got torn in it, all over 

 

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Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

 

Jordan got drafted to the Bulls, '85 here 

My Uncle Greg sniffin' cocaine off my high chair 

Mama in the kitchen cookin', pops on the couch baggin' 

Cousin's loadin' Louie Vuitton duffles in the Station Wagon 

Fiends walkin' in and out my house in old Nikes 

Pops used to tell me: "Son, don't you ever be like me 

The Bloods want to kill me, the cops'll never catch me 

And when you gang bangin' life's shorter than Joe Pesci" 

Then one night my pops came home off heroin 

Shit changed, I'm glad my mama didn't marry him 

Molested my sister that night cause she was scared 

I was too young to help her and my brothers wasn't there 

It was late night, 2AM, my mother at work 

My sister came back up the stairs and it was blood on her shirt 

Blood on her face, blood on her hands, blood on her legs 

Turned on the light and everything was red 

I'm surrounded by 

 

Photos 

 

Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

 

Seven years passed, now a lil nigga seeing things 

Playin' with the birds like Magic, we was the dream team 

Posted up on the block, I had that Hakeem lean 

Watchin' '64s hop my nigga, no green screen 

Walkin' from the Tanas to the Cedars with my eyes closed 

Red bandanna in my pocket, how you hide those? 

Larry Nickles crack spot, my brother got me servin' 

Couldn't cook, burnin' holes in my Dennis Rodman jersey 

Then a nigga turned Pippen on these niggas 

40 sippin' on these niggas 

If you Crippin', we was trippin' on you nigga 

But the Crips would never lay down 

They thought that it was they town 

We thought it was ours so we would empty out the trey pounds 

Ditched school especially since it was an all Crip school 

I'm lucky I'm alive, but would you be if bullets hit you? 

26 dead homies and 2 dead brothers 

Compton is a cold motherfucker 

Niggas dyin' over 

 

Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

Colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

My colors, colors, colors, colors, colors 

 

- It's On 

 

If someone took the flag out my pocket 

Wrap it around my knuckles, make a fist and lock it 

If someone took the flag out my pocket 

Wrap it around my knuckles, make a fist and lock it 

If someone took the flag out my pocket 

Wrap it around my knuckles, make a fist and lock it 

If someone took the flag out my pocket 

Wrap it around my knuckles, make a fist and lock it 

 

These rappers gimmicks, fuck an image 

Straight out of Baldwin Village 

If it's any real activity I'm in it in the midst of the fiction 

Still had a vision, look I never gave up 

Game put me on this song and I fucked around and came up 

I'm Jungles, most my niggas gone so I'ma do it for them 

Antman, Nightmare, B.S.I.P., Tiny M 

It's struggle first, blessin' last 

Like I've been hittin' licks all my life and I passed 

Kept it active for my son he know his daddy ain't a bitch 

Been bangin' all my life now I'm just tryna get rich 

This shit is drastic, my flow bashin' 

On rappers I'm flowin' after 

The cabbage is all that matters 

I'm laughin', these niggas cowards 

It's Osbe, gang bangin' is my hobby 

Except my model cars it's a fuckin' dead body 

I'm from The Jungles, all the homies call me Barzan 

Loadin' up the clips and hoppin' out them stolen cars and 

 

If someone took the flag out my pocket 

Writer:

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