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Jay-Z-What The Game Made Me (Feat. Memphis Bleek Sauce Money)
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Jay-Z
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1
Yeah
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[Intro/Chorus: Jay-Z]
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I'm what the game made me
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Not what the fame made me
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No amount of money can change me
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I'm what you lames can't be
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Live nigga what? Live as fuck
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[repeat 2X]
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[Verse One: Jay-Z]
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Check, live from the 7-1-8
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Either respect the flow or learn your lesson from your weight
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I'm wishin arthritis on all writers who, Knock My Hustle
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How can y'all understand the struggle?
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It's hard to live, when you got greedy niggaz in the mix
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Knowin I outclass three-E niggaz in the six
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So I outblast til it's empty clips
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And I outlast niggaz, survival of the fit
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One life, I gotta make sure it's done right
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Cause them yet to have a conversation bout reincarnation
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Ball out, until I fall out
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Stick thick chicks, try to tear they wall out
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Hard to think about your future with, nothin to gain
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Hard to concentrate on school with stomach pain
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Life's harsh, I know y'all runnin from 'caine
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but it'll only catch you and track you down
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With no deal, who you gonna rap to now?
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Start your own record company, that's profound
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Live niggaz gonna rumble when you back from the war
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Jive niggaz gonna crumble and fall
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[Chorus]
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[Verse Two: Memphis Bleek]
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Aiyyo whether in the Pinto, or rollin in the six
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I come through cocky, holdin my dick
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I never switch shit, cause that's some bitch shit
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I get the Bisquick take it to the district
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cause I could never get rich, and switch my style
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I just cop a little hurt, to the mercantile
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I'm tryin to get it though, rhymin with this six digit flow
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Gettin fly is the minimal, holdin somethin is the principal
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Respect this young nigga that's, holdin the torch
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Preachin shit like the crack game, don't take shorts
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Throw it down it's a bet, nigga roll hard
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til you got somethin icey, round your neck
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In this concrete jungle get rich or remain humble
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Never speak the biz, at worst I might mumble
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Niggaz test it I spit guns, angrily
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Til all that remains is me
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[Chorus (by Memphis Bleek instead of Jay-Z)]
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[Verse Three: Sauce Money]
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I went from no dough to show dough to money to blow
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From umm, hoe I don't know, to get deez
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Never, "Excuse me miss," bitch please, never try to provoke
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Same disrespectful cat I was when I was broke
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Ain't nuttin changed baby but the different faces I stop
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or maybe some of the places I shop
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Now that I run through tracks like cleets with a Air
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for some of the hottest beats, still catch me eatin at Pete's
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Fuck the foul cat who screamed out and threatened my life
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It's all good, here I come kid, dead to the hood
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til I'm in the dirt, foul cats like termites
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come out of the woodworks, if they think you stack paper
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Dead niggaz react later while the cancer spread
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Teach a team how to scheme before they answer lead
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You know me, I used to shoot hoops in the park, ain't nothin changed
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except now I push Coupe's in the dark
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[Chorus (Sauce Money instead of Jay-Z)]
Amil, Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek, JAY-Z...
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