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The Game - BWS Radio Part 2 - Still Me
BWS Radio Part 2
Disc 1
01. Bws Radio Pt 2 (intro)
02. Lyrical Homicide
03. The Illest Rapper Alive
04. Bandana on Right Side (remix)
05. Walk in the Streets
06. Guess Who Bangin'
07. Get Ya $$ Up
08. New Bws Artist
09. Doin' That
10. Nice
11. If You From Here
12. Amsterdan Summer 2007 (live)
13. Never (remix)
14. Not Guilty
15. No Half Steppin'
16. Cut Throat
17. Freestyle
18. I'm Here
19. New West Anthem (remix)
20. Amsterdam Summer 2007, Pt. 2 (live)
Disc 2
01. Voodoo & My Last Album
02. My Bitch
03. Welcome to My Hood
04. Midnight Rider
05. Freestyle Pt. 1
06. Razor
07. Still Me
08. Phenom
09. Streets
10. New Breathe of West Coast
11. Murder
12. I'm From the Ghetto
13. Snitches
14. Mr. Yayo
15. Freestyle Pt. 2
[Verse 1:]
Straight outta the motherfuckin pissy hallways in the projects
To park in a four door Bentley on my set.
Same hood, same motherfuckin steps
I sat on and took the plastic off of "Life After Death"
Bangin, boning Biggie Biggie i did a 360
The Aftermath for that is the nigga 50 aint wit me.
No hard feelings, we both made millions
You can hate me or love me but nigga I spit real shit,
Like I'm comatose, tell the Doc I'm sick
Before "Detox", let me take my last chronic hit.
Now I am gangsta rap inhale the weed smoke
And coughed up five platinum plaques
So Ima let the nigga Dr. Dre hit
Next time I have dreams of fuckin an R&B bitch (dreams of fuckin an R&B bitch)
I don't make love, I make hits.
I put a condom on and stuff my dick in this Hip Hop shit.

[Chorus: x2]
Feels Good
Gangsta

[Verse 2:]
Im that six figure nigga

Who got the word from KRS-ONE
And stole the Blueprint from Jigga
Niggas yellin Game did this, Game did that
Game aint do shit but bring the motherfuckin West Coast back
I hear the whisperin goin on in the hood.
I sent a motherfuckin Hallmark card to Suge
That nigga know that we all good
So you can catch a cab to Hell wit them death threats
I'm already dead
I put the .38 revolver to my own fuckin head
Before I let the shit eat my conscience.
Aint a nigga in the world could tell me I can't come thru Compton.
Before I retire my Converse, I'll ride the train thru NYC with the terrorist bombers.
Somebody tell my mama I'm crazy.
Pop was a Rolling Stone so that makes me a crack baby.
I'm in rehab three times a week
Because I'm a motherfuckin feen for a Dr. Dre beat.

[Chorus x2]

[Chorus x2]