The Game - Mama Knows lyrics

[Verse 1: Game] Mama told me stay away from them n***as Mama told me she had a K for them n***as Mama told me she go to pay for them n***as While my grandmother told me that she would pray for them n***as They just young black and ignorant Lusting over models and the Benjamins Got the game twisted like (what?) licorice When I was rocking lottos moving packs in front of McDonalds She was looking for me, pulled up in that Old El Dorado I was running around with Chase, chasing new black wheels Why would I do that still? That's what got 2Pac k**ed... But I use that still cause I won't do that deal Screw the muzzle in potatoes of that new Mac Mill What did I learn? Nothing My papa smoking sherm blunts and Beating on my moms like her head was a percussion Tat! Tat! My.45 knocking on your window She said there would be days like this, Pharrell, drop the instrumental [Pharrell:] Yezzir... [Hook: Nelly Furtado] I know I must go and I don't know my way Still don't know where we all came from [Verse 2: Game] Crack a Swisher, crack a 5th up Hennessy pouring like Niagara Falls Used to watch Magic, he showed me how to ball Moms working late night, to get a plate right Had some older brothers, all we did was smoke and play-fight Wish I could go back to them days cause streets don't play right Some n***as hard, other n***as was the Kid N Play type Didn't stop me from pretending I was Apollo from Rocky Working on my dip-game, now nobody wanna box me Pick and choose, stick and move So many dudes ended up in sleeping bags on late-night news But not my mama's song, going around the hood serving customers She yapping in my ear, but it's louder than the muffler What I didn't listen to, I wish I would've trusted her Wish I had a shovel, be digging both of my brothers up Like "here hug em ma, one last time" Put a chain on both of them n***as, they get one last shine [Hook: Nelly Furtado] [Verse 3: Game] Put your block down, recognize a king cause it's my town Word to my mother you can throw up your rock now Got off the beef sh** cause I ain't tryna see my mama in all-black Right there, crying over hard facts Now she gotta turn in all her cars and get her house back Never! She carried me for 9 months so she can have whatever Plus she taught me how to shoot Berettas, told me that I'd be a king So RIP to Coretta, if you don't understand that Then refer to my letter, while I sprinkle n***as with platinum, from my last album Got the check, so I signed on the X like Malcolm Riding through the hood, you hating n***as like "how come? " That n***as Game got it, heard he selling talcum Either way, hey playboy, check it, this is the outcome You might not like it, but my mama psychic Why you n***as twisted like the top of a Sidekick?