[Chorus:]
Now how u gon' tell me you don't love me no more How you gon' tell me that
Cause I'm out here getting this bread You hatin on this paper chase
Tryna get my Momma a crib Shit don't even sound right
Tryna get up out the ghetto
Now how the Hood talkin bout they don't need me no more
What'chu want me stuck in the ghetto, listen I'm a get out
Cause a mu'fucka push that GT
Then you what, I'm a come back for the niggas need to be reached for
It's a problem tryna take that from me
You niggas is slippin
Cause I'm packin heavy metal uhhuh

I hear the streets talking funny shit
So I laugh haha tell em keep talking funny keep talking funny
I'm a keep talking money yup
And all different types what
The yens and the pounds pounds
Nigga just for spite push, the Bentley round town sparrows
Tripin' in ice I still be up town Harlem
I hear em kicking up dirt on my name so what
But I could clean em up like detergent on a stain
Or I'll beam em up we got birdies on the chain easy
Respect my mind or respect my grind cause what
Gone to the bank when it's cheque signing time okay
It's Tito Borough when it's jet flying time clear-port
And we so thorough we the set fly or die Dip Set
The bitches funny I'm talking bout life yup
It was Sunday to Sunday on New York's chilly nights that's right
And we was hungry nauseas for a bite
But if the world's apple pie of course you want a slice yup

[Chorus:]
Now how u gon' tell me you don't love me no more hoe you gon' tell me that
Cause I'm out here getting this bread you hatin on this paper chase
Tryna get my Momma a crib
Tryna get up out the ghetto
How the Hood Talkin bout they don't need me no more
Cause a mu'fucka push that GT
It's a problem tryna take that from me
Cause I'm packin Jones heavy metal uhhuh

Heard somebody speak my name, but death was next to it pray for me
My next breath was let's do it kid
Got me runnin through the game with my vest and my best shooters who's next
Best of event VVS and best ya jewellers new year
Nigga outta lame ya shit, gets chewed up get em
And I'm tryna kill the pain with like two sluts what's up baby
Use to say money ain't a thang to I blew up what
Then money's everything, but that thang can break your crew up true stills
Where did love go where
And where does that leave us where we at
They holdin' grudges on how they receive us fa sho
And show the judges on how they perceive us
Hate to see a thug Nigga whip the forein features ballin
Secretary's that Condoleza yup
Cash first, secondary we use the visa uh huh
Blast first, never worry about police cuffs nope
Ya either leave us or you free us
I need money!

[Chorus:]
Now how u gon' tell me you don't love me no more
Cause I'm out here getting this bread
Tryna get my Momma a crib
Tryna get up out the ghetto
How the Hood talkin bout they don't need me no more
Cause a mu'fucka push that GT
It's a problem tryna take that from me
Cause I'm packin heavy metal

The Game

Jayceon Terrell Taylor was born November 29th, 1979 in Compton, California to two Crip-affiliated gang members. He grew up on Santana Blocc, a Crip-controlled neighborhood, with a large family of half and step siblings. He was hardened by a rough and violent childhood stinting from his parent’s drug use, domestic violence, and family members being killed through gang-related conflicts.

By 2000, a 21-year-old Jayceon Taylor was a member of the Cedar Block Pirus, a Blood-affiliated gang, and dealt drugs on the streets of Compton.

Late on the night of October 1st, 2001, Jayceon was alone in his apartment when the doorbell rang and after opening the door, he was jumped by three