Released: March 29, 2005

Producer: JT the Bigga Figga

[Intro: The Game]
Sometimes I wonder
Man, how long is it gon' be for my people to come out?
Man we strugglin, it's hard sometimes, but
Tomorrow's better than yesterday, uhh

[Verse 1: The Game]
I was born in the slums, struggled from day one
Ray Charles vision, blinded by the light from the sun
No navigation, no sense of direction, darker complexion
Made it hard to live; dad, how you fathered your kids?
Stranded on the highway of life, left us out to die, left us out to dry
Shhhh, I'm still hearin' my mother's cries nigga
No father figures make harder niggas
Through the years I went to war with niggas from what I saw in the pictures
Now your son is bigger, thirteen, but just like you
Moms said I would grow up and be just like you
From what you did to my sister she disliked you
Sixteen, eleventh grade, look at me just like you
Gunnin' for riches, runnin' hoppin' project fences
Street corners to Arizona, how I earn my digits
And I'm far from finished, gamin' 'til my coffin diminish
Why pray for the afterlife when mine's just beginnin', huh

[Hook: Sample]
...Promised Land...
...Promised Land...

[Verse 2: The Game]
Only son by a mother, no brothers, only sisters by this one
Every time I kiss one I miss one, let me explain
Eight years before The Game, everything came with pain
Watch the fate of my family slain, would never see good times a-gayn
Cursed with pain by a nigga with no shame
My father bear the same name as his father, my grandfather
Wouldn't believe, he pulled up our family tree
I can see him rolling over in his coffin
I'm left with often, thoughts of how could you molest your daughter?
They say that's ten times worse than manslaughter
Man you oughta, be dead in a grave
But it wasn't my call, so instead you sat in a cage
High-powered, two-hundred and fifty pound, six-five coward
Woulda been dead in an hour
Heard you was scared to take a shower, scared of the yard
Your end is near, you shoulda been scared of God, motherfucker

[Hook]

[Verse 3: The Game]
(All my niggas listen, huh)
I stay a step ahead of the rest of y'all
Why I gotta keep a vest for y'all
Though I made it dog, I still stress for y'all
Funny how my folks think rap money stretch so far
Pray to God my niggas see through all the checks and the cars
I'm tryin to invest in what's ours, gimme a couple of years dog
I'll turn your tears, stress, and your scars
Into lawn chairs and green grass in your yard
I'm tryin' to watch my kids wrestlin' y'alls
Not have to get 'em ready for school and strap a vest on 'em all
I know sometimes it get hard
Keep your head up mami, reach for the stars
Having a child is like a blessing from God
You just gotta work hard, can't let your youngest star strip in that bar
I feel your pain, this shit is ripping my heart
But where and when do we start, listen to the voice in back of my mind
Can't reach all my women so I attack it in rhyme
I know what you're feelin', I'm wiping your tears ma, it could happen in time
For now I take your tear, strife, suffering, imagine it mine, huh

[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