[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
And I’m grindin until I’m tired
Cause they said you ain’t grindin until you tired
So I’m grindin with my eyes wide, lookin to find
A way through the day, a life for the night
Dear Lord you done took so many of my people
I’m just wonderin why you haven’t taken my life (my life, my life)
Like what the hell am I doin right? (doin right)
My life (my life, my life)

[The Game] + (Lil Wayne)
Take me away from the hood, like a state penitentiary
Take me away from the hood, in a casket or a Bentley
Take me away, like I overdosed on cocaine
Or take me away, like a bullet from Kurt Cobain
Suicide, I’m from a +Windy City+, like Do or Die
From a block close to where Biggie was crucified
That was Brooklyn’s Jesus, shot for no fuckin reason
And you wonder why Kanye wears Jesus pieces (my life, my life)
Cause that’s Jesus people, and Game, he’s the equal
Hated on some much +Passion+ that Christ need a sequel
Yeah, like Roc-a-Fella need a Sigel
Like I needed my father, but he needed a needle (my life, my life)
I need some meditation, so I can lead my people
They askin why, why did John Lennon leave The Beatles?
And why every hood nigga feed off evil?
Answer my question ‘fore this bullet leave this Desert Eagle
[www.kantatero.com]

[Chorus]

[The Game] + (Lil Wayne)
We are not the same, I am a Martian
So approach my Phantom doors with caution
You see them 24′s spinnin? I earned ‘em
And all the pictures of me and Em, I burned ‘em
So it ain’t no proof, that I ever walked through 8 Mile
And since it ain’t no Proof, I’ll never walk through 8 Mile
Sometimes I think about my life, with my face down
Then I see my sons and put on that Kanye smile (my life, my life)
Damn, I know his momma proud
And since you helped me sell my +Dream+ we can share my momma now
And like M.J.B., +No More Drama+ now
Livin the +Good Life+, me and Common on common ground
I spit crack, and niggaz could drop it out of town
Got a Cris’, call my estate, I’m never out of bounds
My life used to be empty like a glock without a round
Now my life full, like a chopper with a thousand rounds

[Chorus]

[The Game] + (Lil Wayne)
Walk through the gates of hell, see my Impala parked in front
With the high beams on, me and the devil sharin chronic blunts
Listenin to the Chronic album, play it backwards
Shootin at pictures of Don Imus for target practice
My mind fucked up, so I cover it with a Raider hood
I’m from the city that made you motherfuckers afraid of Suge
{Compton, Compton} Made my grandmother pray for good
It never made her happy, but I bet that new Mercedes could (my life, my life)
Ain’t no bars, but niggaz can’t escape the hood
It took so many of my niggaz, that I should hate the hood
But it’s real niggaz like me, that make the hood
Ridin slow in that Phantom just the way I should (my life, my life)
With the top back, in my Sox hat
I’m +Paid in Full+, the nigga Alpo couldn’t stop that
Even if they brought the nigga ‘Pac back
I’ll still keep this motherfucker cocked back

[Chorus]

[Lil Wayne]
My life (my life, my life)
My life (my life, my life)
My life (my life, my life)