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Living Better NowThe Game

Released: January 24, 2011

Featuring: Toolez Detail

Songwriter: Detail Toolez The Game

Producer: Bink!

[Verse 1 - Detail]
Two-door top off, what it gon' cost
Got my bank account, ain't for those teases
I got a bad bitch with a bad friend
And I think both of them hoes is Belizean
Yeah, birds eye, see the money from the sky
If I cannot get it off best believe I'm gon' try
Ain't a mothafuckin' tear comin' down my eye
So I beat up on this track and make that mothafucka cry
My estates got gates on the hills I'm on top of 'em
Girls have fun so a nigga Cyndi Lauper 'em
Roundin' up the pussy, automatic gon' chopper 'em
Rockstar lifestyle so I stay rockin' 'em
I'm in plain sight, money game right, pussy same night
Livin' like a king, it ain't right, nigga hang tight
Grindin' these bitches, my dear, here's my headlights
Ground to the sky, window seat, see the world like

[Hook - The Notorious B.I.G. ("Juicy" sample)]
However livin' better now, livin' better now
However livin' better now, better, better now
However livin' better now, livin' better now
Livin', livin' better now, livin' better now
However livin' better now, livin' better now
However livin' better now, better, better now
However livin' better now, better now
Drop top BM's, I'm the man girlfriend

[Verse 2 - Game]
However livin' better now, Coogi sweater now
Cock back Berettas now, lay whoever down
Me and Detail scopin' out females
Fuck a phone number, bitch all we need is a e-mail
Red bottoms, let them suckas pay retail
While valet the Aston Martin, calm the V12
Boss shit, used to play the middleman and toss bricks
Now I push it up on Sunset, floss shit
Number 4 Jordans, Lacoste shit
You on to the next nigga, we hoppin' off shit
You niggas talkin' 'bout it, you ain't never bought bricks
Put a hole in one of you niggas, I'm on my golf shit
Blowin' grass, yeah and the iron good
I fuck a bitch in my leisure, nigga Tiger Woods
We spend money like it ain't ours
The Ace of Spades 480, that's eight hours

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - Toolez]
Bitch you lookin' at a player
Every time you see a nigga I be lookin' dead on there
Shorty with the derrier, she can't help it but to stare
Pink champagne, shit is lookin' very rare
No glare but my shades on, Cool Greys on
Harlem bitches wanna blow, get the napalm
Got the purple on deck like I'm Raekwon
Flyer than them all, I just didn't have a cape on
Uh, rackin' up the Sky Miles
Never touchdown I ain't never see a pylon
Uh, bitch you lookin' at a icon
Step up in the club, shit is lookin' like a pile-on
Okay we winnin', you niggas is fuckin' losers
Standin' on the couch and singin', shout out to Luther
Nigga we are ballin', why you committin' bloopers
The 'hood call me Rondo, I'm surrounded by shooters

[Hook]

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

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