"Livin" lyrics
The Game, DJ Drama and Mike & Keys Lyrics
(feat. Hayley Williams)
It's been a pleasure
Ain't it fun
Living in the real world?
Somethin' legendary
Ain't it good
Being all alone?
Every Movie Needs a Trailer
DJ Drama
Pack to the back, six folk to the front
California breeze like a match to my blunt
Knock-knock, who is it? It's your neighborhood chuck
And I'm not from the cities, but I gotta give it up
And show you how to survive in South Central
It's all mental, and it's not by luck
You gotta put on for your city, gotta put on your kids
That's just how it is when you got Compton across your ribs
You gotta carry your coast even when it get heavy
I just lift it back up like the switches on my Chevy
From the rag to the drop, all gold on the rims
Westside nigga gone with the wind
Ain't it fun
Living in the real world?
Ain't it good
Being all alone?
I got the women, the weed, the palm, the tree
If you see me in traffic, homie, the chronic on me
You know the 'Woods get twisted, hair get braided
Chucks get laced from Malibu to Long Beach
Snoop, what up, Loc? It's your YG
Tell these niggas I'ma B-L-double-O-D
And it ain't where you from, it's where you at
I be out in Paris still rockin' my Dodger hat
Like this (Like this), like that (Like that)
Westside, a lil' louder for them people in the back
From California with love, you in the club with a thug
Ain't nobody gettin' in with a strap
Ain't it fun
Living in the real world?
Ain't it good
Being all alone?
And like that?
(Gangsta Grizzillz)
We gone
Game, holler at me
Round two
Ain't it fun
Living in the real world?
Somethin' legendary
Ain't it good
Being all alone?
Every Movie Needs a Trailer
DJ Drama
Pack to the back, six folk to the front
California breeze like a match to my blunt
Knock-knock, who is it? It's your neighborhood chuck
And I'm not from the cities, but I gotta give it up
And show you how to survive in South Central
It's all mental, and it's not by luck
You gotta put on for your city, gotta put on your kids
That's just how it is when you got Compton across your ribs
You gotta carry your coast even when it get heavy
I just lift it back up like the switches on my Chevy
From the rag to the drop, all gold on the rims
Westside nigga gone with the wind
Ain't it fun
Living in the real world?
Ain't it good
Being all alone?
I got the women, the weed, the palm, the tree
If you see me in traffic, homie, the chronic on me
You know the 'Woods get twisted, hair get braided
Chucks get laced from Malibu to Long Beach
Snoop, what up, Loc? It's your YG
Tell these niggas I'ma B-L-double-O-D
And it ain't where you from, it's where you at
I be out in Paris still rockin' my Dodger hat
Like this (Like this), like that (Like that)
Westside, a lil' louder for them people in the back
From California with love, you in the club with a thug
Ain't nobody gettin' in with a strap
Ain't it fun
Living in the real world?
Ain't it good
Being all alone?
And like that?
(Gangsta Grizzillz)
We gone
Game, holler at me
Round two
