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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Game
Vocals
Busta Rhymes
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
C. Young
Songwriter
David Goldsmith
Songwriter
Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Songwriter
Jonathan Rotem
Songwriter
Shorty
Songwriter
T. Smith
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Steve Daniel Baughman
Mixing Engineer
Andrew Dawson
Recording Engineer
Bernie Grundman
Mastering Engineer
Jonathan Rotem
Producer
Lyrics
Yo Bus, I think I got... the answer to all my problems...
The fuck you talkin' bout, na, what's that?
Belevedere... and Banana Snapple na, you get in the fuckin' car, man, we gotta bounce, nig!
a son...
na!
One more shot...
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la...
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...
Dre, I didn't mean to turn my back on you,
But I'm a man, and sometimes a man do, what he gotta do,
Remember, I'm from Compton too,
I saw you and Eazy in 'em so I started wearing Khaki suits,
I was 12, smoking chronic, in '92,
I had a choice, be like Mike, or be like you,
I made a choice, now it's be Crip, or be Piru,
Whatever I was, I was banging Gin and Juice,
Never knew back then, I'd be friends with Snoop,
Now I gotta keep it gangsta cuz it's in my roots,
So I owe you my life, when I betrayed you,
I tried to think of what the fuck, Eminem might do.
If every na hated him, for that black bitch track,
And nas stopped bumping Dre after Dee Barnes got slapped,
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la...
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...
I never said thank you, and I took it for granted,
You let me in your house and made me a part of your family,
Now I'm eating with you, Eve and Busta Rhymes,
I wasn't star-struck, I was just glad to be signed,
And even though sometimes I run loose,
You still my homeboy, Doc, I'd take a bullet for you,
I'm not asking you to take my side in the beef,
But you told me it was okay to say 'Fuck the police!',
Now it's my turn to carry the torch,
And I still got the chain that you wore on the cover o' The Source,
Remember when we got drunk to do Start From Scratch?
I told you you was like a father to me, I meant that!
Sitting here looking at my platinum plaques,
Thinking 'What the fuck am I without a Dr. Dre track?'
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la...
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...
See when the world is on your shoulders, and the stress grows bigger,
The fire in him made it difficult to talk to the na,
Most of the time I let him know, I don't agree with what he do,
But he a hard-head, Dre, that's why I'm talkin' to you,
See when I first met my na, son was laying in the cut,
Type reserved, homie was quiet and kept his mouth shut,
Until you told him to spit for me, he flippin' from the gut,
I dug his spirit, and I thought the dude was talented as fuck,
And as time went on, and he was working with the finest,
I saw the pressure start to build so I gave additional guidance,
You gave him something that could make or break a na you should face it,
So big I don't even think he was ready to embrace it,
With the potential to be a strong na with conviction,
The only problem was our little na wouln't listen,
But when Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like La, la, la...
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, La, la, la...
Aiyo, Game... Aiyo Game! Wake up, na!
I'm up man, I'm up...
We at your crib, na, get the fuck outta the car, na, get up, man!
This ain't my house... my house is... is green!
na!
I got love for you, Bus', you my na...
you drunk motherfucker...
Just goin to the studio...
(Laughing) Go to sleep, na...
Writer(s): Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Christopher Young, Jonathan Reuven Rotem, Samuel Clothier Christian, David S. Goldsmith
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