[Produced by Havoc]
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[Intro: The Game]
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Yo Havoc, Im too close to the edge on this one nigga
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I aint gon jump though, Imma keep it raw gutter
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Yo Prodigy, you know I need you on this one nigga
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[Verse 1: The Game]
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I got shit on my chest, I must confess
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Last night I was the nigga that shot up your projects
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Now Im back in the hood, with rocks in the Pyrex
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Tan khakis and them Nike Airs with the dyed checks
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I was forced to live this life, forced to bust my chrome
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My pops left me in a foster home
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I felt abandoned like Quik now that Mausberg gone
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So I dont hop in the SS without the Mossberg homes
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Ive been rappin for a year and a half, my life is real
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Put the gun in his mouth, he gon bite the steel
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Come to Compton, I got stripes for real
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Before Dre, before the ice, before the deal – I was almost killed
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Like ‘Pac before the Death Row deal
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I got shot over two pounds of weed, still aint found them niggas
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But karma come quicker for a nigga on the other side of the gun
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Thats somethin I gotta teach my son
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[Chorus: Faith Evans]
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I dont need your love, no no no no
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I dont need your love
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Need it, I dont want it, I dont need it
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I dont need your love, no I dont need your love
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I dont need your love
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‘Cause, the, game, dont, change
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[Verse 2: The Game]
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I heard they got Bloods in New York now
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Red rags in Uptown Harlem now, I need that love
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Front court at the Knicks game, new chick, French name
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New car, new house, and sometimes friends change
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And you dont need that love, when you Gs like us
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And your Jesus piece is sim-u-lar to Biggies
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And your life story is sim-u-lar to 50s
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First they hate you, then they love you, then they hate you again
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What the fuck do it take for a gangsta to win?
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No mics, no Unsigned Hype, nigga, fuck The Source
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Plus them awards I dont need
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And them niggas breathing the same air as me, acting like they dont bleed
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We dont drive the same speed, this a Continental T
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Thats a case of Armadale, this a continental suite
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So Imma drown in my own sorrows
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Live life, fuck tomorrow, nigga, cause reality is
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[Chorus: Faith Evans]
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I dont need your love, no no no no
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I dont need your love
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Need it, I dont want it, I dont need it
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I dont need your love, no I dont need your love
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I dont need your love
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‘Cause, the, game, dont, change
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[Verse 3: The Game]
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I was gassed up, Murder Inc., Roc-A-Fella passed up
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Sat in Daddys House with Black Rob and Lou and asked Puff
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Now The Games set in stone, the Franck Mullers set in stones
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Dre cut me a check, Im gone
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Tryin to be the king of the streets, niggasll wet your throne
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But I got nieces to feed, two coasts to please
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So I roam through the city like the ghost of E
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Gotta put Compton back where its ‘sposed to be
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Nuthin between all my niggas thats close to me
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In the streets with two fellas packin toast for me
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Im ‘posed to be, got all the critics watchin my pivot
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On my block in the Coupe readin kites from prison
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I got niggas doing life in prison
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All my fallen soldiers is one of the reasons we pour out liquor
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So this song is for Ms. Wallace, Afeni Shakur
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And all the mothers of dead sons that went out in the war
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[Chorus: Faith Evans]
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I dont need your love, no no no no
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I dont need your love
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Need it, I dont want it, I dont need it
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I dont need your love, no I dont need your love
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I dont need your love
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‘Cause, the, game, dont, change
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I dont need your love, really dont need it
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I dont need your love
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I dont want it, I dont need it
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I dont need your love, no I dont need your love
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I dont need your love
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‘Cause, the, game, dont, change
