Released: June 18, 2010
Featuring: Robin Thicke
Songwriter: Robin Thicke The Game
Producer: DJ Khalil
[Chorus: Robin Thicke & Game]
Keep on trying
You can never hold me down
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
C-c-can't hold me
[Verse 1: Game]
This is dope boy music, American dream
We let them choppers sing like that little nigga Dream
No auto-tune unless I'm tuning out the barrel
Flying through ya borough, (red) Camaro
I had 'em shook like Colts on Reggie Bush
With that 4-5 coat hanger, bang em and let me push
I used to get my ass whooped for listenin' to Spice 1
On the court, game point, fade away, nice one
Same court where the fiends get they white from
Hustle till the night come
Crouch down low, with a pocket full of money
Shooting dice in my white 1's
Roll another seven of the nike on my white 1's
I had a jumper, plus I was pumpin'
Moms and pops was both gangsters any drama I will slump 'em
How the fuck you think I got the name Game
Same way them Lakers got all of them fucking rings, hustlin'
[Bridge: Robin Thicke]
Hustlin' championship ring
Hustlin' metaphor street king
Hustlin' drop top, chain swing
Hustlin', hustlin'
[Verse 2: Game]
My moms worked the graveyard shift, she was bustin' it
But I was at home, straight hustlin'
I had 2 brothers niggas didn't fuck with 'em
They was like, that's our little brother don't fuck with him
They shot 'em both so, I was like fuck it then
Called up the homies "I'm ready, nigga jump me in
Hopped in the G-ride, same one the pump be in
I'm bout to do these niggas worse then Columbians
And I ain't hoppin' out the car like Tre did
I'm turnin' off the lights and pullin' up like "say kid"
[Bridge: Robin Thicke]
Hustlin' championship ring
Hustlin' metaphor street king
Hustlin' drop top, chain swing
Hustlin', hustlin'
[Verse 3: Game]
It was a cold Day in 1996
Fav bar? Reasonable Doubt over
Before that day, we ain't know shit about hova
He was talking Cristal, and 4.6 Rovers
But all we knew were 5.0s and Toyotas
So, we took y'all swag y'all took our rags
The way I see it, it's a fair exchange, why you mad?
Son, Yeah Jay was one of my teachers
Bumpin' Roc-A-Fella but, couldn't get a feature
Was like, being underage and couldn't get a beeper
Missing sales cause the onions still stuck in my sneaker
Tucking the street sweeper, dodgin' the grim reaper
Hit my block after 8 o'clock, I'll make you a believer
We was movin' white kid, the Justin Beiber
Us and homeless shelters no different, we both feed 'em
Playing John Madden, smoking all my nigga weed up
Relaxin' with my feet up, waiting for the re-up
[Chorus: Robin Thicke & Game]
Keep on trying
You can never hold me down
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
C-c-can't hold me
[Verse 4: Game]
How I sell 10 million and stay 'hood, somebody holla at me
If I go to jail you nigga ain't gone throw a dolla at me
Like my nigga Frogg, threw his Impala at me
Like when I was in the bay and 40 popped his colla at me
That's why when I come through, she look like Halle Berry
I'm in this Game by myself, solitary
Every now and then, you my see me with a couple friends
Same ones that was right there, when I had a couple ends
No fuckin' Benz, no fuckin' house
Just a fuckin' couch, so shut your fuckin' mouth
Before I zip it up, say fuck rap
Fuck Interscope, take my contract and rip it up
Aftermath's bad boy, like Big and Puff
The giant can't sleep 'cause niggas steady tryin' to dig him up
And while you motherfuckers waitin' on Toronto
I'm in the 'hood with Pancho, stackin' Rajon Rondo
[Bridge: Robin Thicke]
Hustlin' championship rings
Hustlin' metaphor street king
Hustlin'
[Outro: Robin Thicke & Game]
And while you motherfuckers waitin' on Toronto
I'm in the 'hood with Poncho, stackin' Rajon Rondo
Keep on trying
You can never hold me down
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
C-c-can't hold me
Keep on trying
You can never hold me down
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
C-c-can't hold me
[Verse 1: Game]
This is dope boy music, American dream
We let them choppers sing like that little nigga Dream
No auto-tune unless I'm tuning out the barrel
Flying through ya borough, (red) Camaro
I had 'em shook like Colts on Reggie Bush
With that 4-5 coat hanger, bang em and let me push
I used to get my ass whooped for listenin' to Spice 1
On the court, game point, fade away, nice one
Same court where the fiends get they white from
Hustle till the night come
Crouch down low, with a pocket full of money
Shooting dice in my white 1's
Roll another seven of the nike on my white 1's
I had a jumper, plus I was pumpin'
Moms and pops was both gangsters any drama I will slump 'em
How the fuck you think I got the name Game
Same way them Lakers got all of them fucking rings, hustlin'
[Bridge: Robin Thicke]
Hustlin' championship ring
Hustlin' metaphor street king
Hustlin' drop top, chain swing
Hustlin', hustlin'
[Verse 2: Game]
My moms worked the graveyard shift, she was bustin' it
But I was at home, straight hustlin'
I had 2 brothers niggas didn't fuck with 'em
They was like, that's our little brother don't fuck with him
They shot 'em both so, I was like fuck it then
Called up the homies "I'm ready, nigga jump me in
Hopped in the G-ride, same one the pump be in
I'm bout to do these niggas worse then Columbians
And I ain't hoppin' out the car like Tre did
I'm turnin' off the lights and pullin' up like "say kid"
[Bridge: Robin Thicke]
Hustlin' championship ring
Hustlin' metaphor street king
Hustlin' drop top, chain swing
Hustlin', hustlin'
[Verse 3: Game]
It was a cold Day in 1996
Fav bar? Reasonable Doubt over
Before that day, we ain't know shit about hova
He was talking Cristal, and 4.6 Rovers
But all we knew were 5.0s and Toyotas
So, we took y'all swag y'all took our rags
The way I see it, it's a fair exchange, why you mad?
Son, Yeah Jay was one of my teachers
Bumpin' Roc-A-Fella but, couldn't get a feature
Was like, being underage and couldn't get a beeper
Missing sales cause the onions still stuck in my sneaker
Tucking the street sweeper, dodgin' the grim reaper
Hit my block after 8 o'clock, I'll make you a believer
We was movin' white kid, the Justin Beiber
Us and homeless shelters no different, we both feed 'em
Playing John Madden, smoking all my nigga weed up
Relaxin' with my feet up, waiting for the re-up
[Chorus: Robin Thicke & Game]
Keep on trying
You can never hold me down
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
C-c-can't hold me
[Verse 4: Game]
How I sell 10 million and stay 'hood, somebody holla at me
If I go to jail you nigga ain't gone throw a dolla at me
Like my nigga Frogg, threw his Impala at me
Like when I was in the bay and 40 popped his colla at me
That's why when I come through, she look like Halle Berry
I'm in this Game by myself, solitary
Every now and then, you my see me with a couple friends
Same ones that was right there, when I had a couple ends
No fuckin' Benz, no fuckin' house
Just a fuckin' couch, so shut your fuckin' mouth
Before I zip it up, say fuck rap
Fuck Interscope, take my contract and rip it up
Aftermath's bad boy, like Big and Puff
The giant can't sleep 'cause niggas steady tryin' to dig him up
And while you motherfuckers waitin' on Toronto
I'm in the 'hood with Pancho, stackin' Rajon Rondo
[Bridge: Robin Thicke]
Hustlin' championship rings
Hustlin' metaphor street king
Hustlin'
[Outro: Robin Thicke & Game]
And while you motherfuckers waitin' on Toronto
I'm in the 'hood with Poncho, stackin' Rajon Rondo
Keep on trying
You can never hold me down
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
You can never hold me down (you can't hold me)
C-c-can't hold me