Featuring: Mýa

Songwriter: The Game Mýa

Producer: Dr. Dre

[Verse 1: Game]
Straight out the motherfuckin' pissy hallway in the projects
To parkin' a four door Bentley on my set
Same hood, same motherfuckin' steps
I sat on and took the plastic off of "Life After Death"
Bangin', bonin' Biggie-Biggie I did a 360
The Aftermath for that is the nigga 50 ain’t wit me
No hard feelings, we both made millions
You can hate me or love me but nigga I spit real shit
Like I'm comatose, tell the Doc I'm sick
Before Detox, let me take my last Chronic hit
Now I am gangsta rap
Inhale the weed smoke and coughed up five platinum plaques
So I’m a let the nigga Dr. Dre hit
Next time I have dreams of fuckin' an R&B bitch
I don't make love, I make hits
I put a condom on and stuff my dick in this Hip-Hop shit

[Chorus: Mýa]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Feels good
Oh, gangsta (gangsta)
And I keeps it still hood (still hood, yeah)
And I keeps it gangsta, yeah (gangsta, yeah)

[Verse 2: Game]
I’m that six figure nigga who got the word
From KRS-ONE and stole the Blueprint from Jigga
Niggas yellin' Game did this, Game did that
Game ain’t do shit but bring the motherfuckin' West Coast back
I hear the whisperin' going on in the hood
I sent a motherfuckin' Hallmark card to Suge
That nigga know that we all good
So you can catch a cab to Hell wit them death threats
I'm already dead, I put the .38 revolver to my own fucking head
Before I let the shit eat my conscience
Ain’t a nigga in the world could tell me I can't come thru' Compton
Before I retire my Converse, I'll ride the train
Through New York City with the terrorist bombers
Somebody tell my mama I'm crazy
Poppa was a Rolling Stone so that make me a crack baby
I'm in rehab three times a week
Because I'm a motherfuckin' fiend for a Dr. Dre beat

[Chorus: Mýa]
Oh, feels good (feels good)
Oh, it's all so gangsta (gangsta)
And it's still hood (still hood)
And always gon' be gangsta (gangsta)
Yeah-eah

[Outro: Mýa]
Feels good
Gangsta
Still hood
Gangsta

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