Artist: The Game f/ Dr. Dre, Kendrick Lamar
Album:  The Documentary 2
Song:   On Me
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Intro: sample of "On and On" by Erykah Badu]
"On and on, and on and"
"On-on and on, and on and"
"On-on and on, and on and"
"On-on and on, and on and"

[The Game]
Back when Dot, was hangin out at Top's in the Benzo
Freestylin to them "Chronic" instrumentals, no pens and pencils
I was out there Blood'in like a menstrual
With a Backwood clinched between my dentals
Way back when, when we was outside with the indo
Hotboxin rentals in front of Centennial
Remedial thoughts, never thought that I would amount to shit
Smoke chronic, fuck bitches, ride around, bouncin shit
From Impalas to that Harley truck
To dish-raggin bitches that was hard to fuck, I came up, it was hardly luck
Just left Compton, and I ain't have to use my AK
{"What a day, what a day"}

[Kendrick Lamar]
Back when my driver's license, was babyfaced and triflin
I made my way through crisis
I made my tape and recorded portraits in front of sirens, I made you hate the vibrant
You can't escape the tyrant, you can't relate where I've been
In '98 my problem, actin too grown and shit
Cappin at bitches, yeah my religion through songs and shit
On me, that's on me
Raise up nigga you are not the homie
Bitch I'm well-connected from my +Section+ down to Long Beach
Fumblin with Tetris if your block neglectin yo' ki'
Every day I wake up with my face up to my Father
Makin sure my heart is pure enough to grow my seed and harvest
All my green is stuffin, double up my plantation with dollar
Every dream is such reality, my déjà vu done caught up
Bitch I'm brought up - with the homies, that's on me
24/7, Kendrick reppin these cold streets
Don't we, live by it, die by it, then reincarnate
And if Game told me, drive by it, I raise AK~!
Ain't no shame on it, cry about it, fuck that I'll play
Like no name on it, blindsided, ain't no one safe~!
"Documentary" had identities of where I'm from
Therefore my energy had to make sure the better me won
It ain't no better one son, it ain't no tellin me none
Nigga that's Chuck, Doc Dre and K, the legacy's DONE!
BLAOW!

[Interlude: Kendrick Lamar]
Awww man
You thought these Niggaz Wit Attitude'll show gratitude?
Fooled you
From 2015 to infinity it's still bomb weed and Hennessy
I can +Pimp a Butterfly+ for the energy
Game, I need acapella

[The Game] + (Dr. Dre)
Here I go, gimme a minute nigga!
'Bout to hit a home run, K-Dot, grab the pennant nigga
Pin it on my Pendleton, trap +Late Night+, Jay Leno and them
Got my momma a tennis bracelet, Wimbledon or Wilmington
Now can I rap for a minute? Black on the track for a minute?
Look in my rhyme book, see/C Murder like when I was a fan of No Limit
Ain't no gimmicks 'round here, this Compton, me Doc and Kendrick
+Chronic+, +good kid+, my first shit, three +Documentaries+
Now I'm blockin sentries, 16 Impalas, they bounce like they Iguodala
That's on my momma, niggaz up and did me a solid
(I put that on me, that's on me)
(You get a bullet fuckin with the lil' homie) {*blam*}
Thinkin back then like fuck your rules, nigga this is Piru
Slide through with the Erykah Badu, Westside Compton, nigga don't mind if I do
From Piru Street to my old street, nigga this Compton, grew up on a dead end
Got an armful of dead friends, 'round here Crips be sweatin us niggaz like a headband
Like "What's up cuz?" (Sup cuz, where you from?) No time to stop and think
Pull your strap before they do or you get shot before you blink
+Straight Outta Compton+, three times I told you, the third time I said it
with TDE motherfucker, I'll make you eat every letter
Spoon-feed you niggaz like toddlers, from the city of Impalas
Where shot-callers take they Pit bulls and feed them niggaz Rottweilers
My clip full, I quick pull, no more slangin 8-balls on the corner
And all them niggaz I used to freestyle with, I ate y'all on the corner
Call the coroner, niggaz dead out here, hangin onto life by a thread out here
Them niggaz wearin all that red out here, P snapbacks on niggaz head out here
So don't, you come fuckin with the little homie
So O.G., they call me Tony
Montana, no French, my red bandana legit
My uncle told me before he died, "Just keep yo' hand on the brick"
So I did, sell every chicken that a nigga had in stock
Yes I did, walked to Compton, hot pocket full of rocks
Yes I did, skipped class; yes I did, whooped niggaz ass
Yes I did, fuck a bitch behind the bleachers while on the rag
That's on Bloods, Westside, that's on Bloods, this Tec fly, that's on Bloods
You fuck with Dot, I'll let you choke on your blood
I put that

[Outro: Kendrick Lamar]
On me, that's on me
On me, that's on me
On me, that's on me
Raise up nigga you are not the homie
On me, that's on me
On me, that's on me
On me, that's on me
Raise up nigga you are not the homie

{*samples of "On and On" by Erykah Badu play to the end*}