Roll somethin up
Aye Merk you already know what it is boy, aye.
Whattup Game
They not ready for what the f*ck we bout to do.
Surrey
They not ready homie.
Jesus piece around my neck and I'm wearin it like a vest
I'm the boss I don't see all that arrogance as a threat.
Game told me don't forget to be careful how you invest
Now the G Wagon interior glaring off my Patek.
I know you have that on ya conscience this is Canada to Compton.
Get a Grammy then a Oscar and go right back to the projects.
I'm someone they pretend to be, suckas don't get my energy.
I was a young'n in that cutlass bumpin The Documentary.
We'd sneak outta the house while Grandma was watching Jeopardy.
She caught us on the block and made us dump out all our Hennessy
Just the thought of its nostalgic I was on my 8 mile shit.
I was young I was confused but the music would over power it.
That was back in 03, I swear the Aftermath was Shady.
So I can't imagine sayin I'm collabin with The Game.
So when I die, cremate me put my ashes in a vase.
Roll me up inside a blunt and f*ckin pass it to my gang.
Someone tell my Momma I made it out the hood now I'm famous
I been riding round faded from LA to Las Vegas
I had to manifest this, Hatin on us is a death wish.
Put them lambos up, bring them Impalas out.
Gimme a eighth and a crater I show you what them dollas bout.
Still countin large amounts, Still smoking by the ounce.
Still f*ck with Dre, I'm gettin head right outside his house.
2020 vision, angel on the grill.
Juiced up to Pac like that fat nigga still.
When I still got it, mama happy I made it.
For all them times I got her raided I moved her to Vegas.
Life is a gamble, snake eyes on the dice.
Glock in my True Religions, My passion of christ.
And I'm running these lights, smoking this dope.
Sold all my albums just like I did with the coke.
Underhand, see this money make these bitches do the running man.
I'm comfortable if I leave the house, and I ain't got a hundred grand.
Hit twelve with the eagle, run no Cunningham.
Us against them, some shit you'll never understand.
Death Wish (feat. The Game) Video (MV)
Performed By: Merkules
Length: 2:51
Written by: Aaron Hiltz, Cole Stevenson, Craig Phillip Lanciani, Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Merkules - Death Wish (feat. The Game) Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Roll somethin up
Aye Merk you already know what it is boy, aye.
Whattup Game
They not ready for what the f*ck we bout to do.
Surrey
They not ready homie.
Jesus piece around my neck and I'm wearin it like a vest
I'm the boss I don't see all that arrogance as a threat.
Game told me don't forget to be careful how you invest
Now the G Wagon interior glaring off my Patek.
I know you have that on ya conscience this is Canada to Compton.
Get a Grammy then a Oscar and go right back to the projects.
I'm someone they pretend to be, suckas don't get my energy.
I was a young'n in that cutlass bumpin The Documentary.
We'd sneak outta the house while Grandma was watching Jeopardy.
She caught us on the block and made us dump out all our Hennessy
Just the thought of its nostalgic I was on my 8 mile shit.
I was young I was confused but the music would over power it.
That was back in 03, I swear the Aftermath was Shady.
So I can't imagine sayin I'm collabin with The Game.
So when I die, cremate me put my ashes in a vase.
Roll me up inside a blunt and f*ckin pass it to my gang.
Someone tell my Momma I made it out the hood now I'm famous
I been riding round faded from LA to Las Vegas
I had to manifest this, Hatin on us is a death wish.
Put them lambos up, bring them Impalas out.
Gimme a eighth and a crater I show you what them dollas bout.
Still countin large amounts, Still smoking by the ounce.
Still f*ck with Dre, I'm gettin head right outside his house.
2020 vision, angel on the grill.
Juiced up to Pac like that fat nigga still.
When I still got it, mama happy I made it.
For all them times I got her raided I moved her to Vegas.
Life is a gamble, snake eyes on the dice.
Glock in my True Religions, My passion of christ.
And I'm running these lights, smoking this dope.
Sold all my albums just like I did with the coke.
Underhand, see this money make these bitches do the running man.
I'm comfortable if I leave the house, and I ain't got a hundred grand.
Hit twelve with the eagle, run no Cunningham.
Us against them, some shit you'll never understand.
Aye Merk you already know what it is boy, aye.
Whattup Game
They not ready for what the f*ck we bout to do.
Surrey
They not ready homie.
Jesus piece around my neck and I'm wearin it like a vest
I'm the boss I don't see all that arrogance as a threat.
Game told me don't forget to be careful how you invest
Now the G Wagon interior glaring off my Patek.
I know you have that on ya conscience this is Canada to Compton.
Get a Grammy then a Oscar and go right back to the projects.
I'm someone they pretend to be, suckas don't get my energy.
I was a young'n in that cutlass bumpin The Documentary.
We'd sneak outta the house while Grandma was watching Jeopardy.
She caught us on the block and made us dump out all our Hennessy
Just the thought of its nostalgic I was on my 8 mile shit.
I was young I was confused but the music would over power it.
That was back in 03, I swear the Aftermath was Shady.
So I can't imagine sayin I'm collabin with The Game.
So when I die, cremate me put my ashes in a vase.
Roll me up inside a blunt and f*ckin pass it to my gang.
Someone tell my Momma I made it out the hood now I'm famous
I been riding round faded from LA to Las Vegas
I had to manifest this, Hatin on us is a death wish.
Put them lambos up, bring them Impalas out.
Gimme a eighth and a crater I show you what them dollas bout.
Still countin large amounts, Still smoking by the ounce.
Still f*ck with Dre, I'm gettin head right outside his house.
2020 vision, angel on the grill.
Juiced up to Pac like that fat nigga still.
When I still got it, mama happy I made it.
For all them times I got her raided I moved her to Vegas.
Life is a gamble, snake eyes on the dice.
Glock in my True Religions, My passion of christ.
And I'm running these lights, smoking this dope.
Sold all my albums just like I did with the coke.
Underhand, see this money make these bitches do the running man.
I'm comfortable if I leave the house, and I ain't got a hundred grand.
Hit twelve with the eagle, run no Cunningham.
Us against them, some shit you'll never understand.
Writer: Aaron Hiltz, Cole Stevenson, Craig Phillip Lanciani, Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), BMG Rights Management, Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), BMG Rights Management, Songtrust Ave