Bad Boy On Death Row

[Intro: Dave East]

I welcome ya'll to greatness

You now witnessing a legend

Real nigga shit

[Verse 1: Dave East]

Uh, I've seen it all from a crackhead living room

Never get in tune with negative vibes

Look in my eyes, 27 years of pain when I glance

Thing in my pants, never ever came for romance

Finger fuckin' til my palm hurt, I came with the plan

[Verse 2: The Game]

I came with a Glock, bullets run out, niggas getting socked off top

We were selling dope, like we was from the rock

Off pot, hanging out the Cutlass letting off shots

Bill Clinton gettin' head, you buggin', you think I'm not

[Verse 3: Dave East]

Donald Trump ain't safe on my block, gotcha your wifey at IHOP

Your baby mother love that cyclops, my one-eyed monster

Interrogations keep comin' back, shit feel like karma

They add grams, now I moving with Benz, ain't talking contra

[Verse 4: The Game]

Verse-y, Lord have mercy on a nigga ridin' in the Mercy

With some Hershey and she from Marcy

The brain Bosley, nigga fuckin' no Bill Cosby

Samsung, champagne spillin' on it beside me

Laced in Tom Ford, hard bottoms in the lobby

[Verse 5: Dave East]

I missed the Met Gala, eatin' linguine with the best scallops

Shit, I knew we was the best before I met Khaled

Chasin' lettuce out here lookin' for the next salad

I'm from the East Side of Harlem, we never stress valance

Checks pilin', black shades wave the Tech smilin'

Nautica trunks, a hundred blunts on the next island

[Verse 6: The Game]

My neck stylin', 5 karats on the angel wings

Aventador, Gold Daytons, its a Compton thing

Don't make me switch ribs, hop in the ghost like it's Halloween

Run up on a con spittin' ether like I am out of Queens

Walk up on a nigga, broad day, take him out of things

Leave him like Barkley, make him play the block without a ring

Me and Dave, Styles and Jada, heroin and gasoline

RIP to Yams, when we in Harlem cookin' collard greens

I start trippin', it's like Future when he out of lean

And I don't do construction but this hammer hangin' out my jeans

And what you rappers gon' do when you run out of memes

You can run on Instagram, but can't outrun the beam, nigga

[Verse 7: Dave East]

Dope in Michigan, Detroit Lions stamp

I run it like Barry Sanders, the Spanish Meyer Lansky

Hoodlum, my alliances out in Brooklyn

We play steps like Crooklyn, follow the lord, took 'em

A hundred bookies, bettin' on Golden State

Fiends sniffin' 8 balls as I watched his face go in that plate