{*a lighter clicks, a gun cocks, then a sample plays in reverse*}
[Ca$his]
Lies in the game, how I entertain
The last lines of the next Kurt Cobain
Standin in the mirror with a .9 at my brain
Most rap guys wanna die for the fame
Supposed to die young cause, I'm in the gang
And I can't change cause, I entertain
Can sniff three verses through lines of 'caine
You just realized that, I'm insane
I'm enraged, engaged in a war with ways
They can have me spray shots off the stage
If I die like Malcolm will you feel my pain?
Or just cry like a bitch while I lay in my grave?
If I die like 'Pac, cause I yearn to bang
You discredit me, like I never learned a thang
If I die like Big would you praise my rhymes?
And give me the spot, "Best of All Time"
If I die in N.Y. with the West Coast ride
And the beef not stop 'til, hip-hop die
Will a nigga who don't, understand that line
try and damage my safety, in N.Y.?
Will the rap game embrace me cause I got skill?
Or for the lies of that man, will I get killed nigga?
[Chorus: Ca$his]
I'm just gettin high, gettin high
Think of suicide, suicide
I'm just gettin high, gettin high
Think of suicide, suicide
I'm just gettin high, gettin high
I think of suicide, suicide
[Ca$his]
Will the crimes of my youth, come back to haunt me?
By the time I shoot, will my father want me?
When I tour will my girl be-come a whore?
And I come back home and can't fuck her raw
If I walked on stage like, "FUCK the law!"
Will the hip-hop cops try and kill my squad?
Will the niggaz on my team really ride like they say?
Or push me in the shots, he gon' die anyway
Is niggaz really jealous, cause I got shine?
Is it envy from the fellas, cause I got signed?
Will the whole hood hate, cause I speak my mind?
Will I die for a rhyme before I reach my prime?
If I kill my bitch like Robert Blake
Do I got enough money, to beat the case?
If I crash out, right before I end the race
and die, 'fore I come out, would you feel my pain?
I'm almost to a point, where I can't be saved
My mindstate, at a place, where it can't be changed
Laws got a nigga stuck like he can't get break
But I gotta back up, all the shit I say
It's lies in the game, how I entertain
The last lines of the next Kurt Cobain
Standin in the mirror with a .9 at my brain
Most rap guys wanna die for the fame
[Chorus]
compositores: RAMONE JOHNSON, MARSHALL MATHERS, RONDELL EDWIN TURNER
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