The Soundtrack lyrics

[Verse 1: The Game & Meek Mill]
Politics as usual, them palm trees is beautiful
Crack rock lingerin', fiends suckin' they cuticles
Wear the wrong colors 'round here, n*ggas is shootin' you
n*ggas workin' out in them pens, stuck in they cubicles
n*gga, you killin' who? Street sh*t, me and Meek sh*t
f*ck with him, f*ck around and be your funeral
Have your momma ten and two, with my homies spinnin' through
Drive-by, layin' side by side as they viewin' you
Ha, cause you will ride for your n*gga, right?
Now with hearses side by side, with your n*gga right
Cause it been plenty nights I barely made it through this life
n*ggas want to snatch my soul from me like I'm Jesus Christ
Compton, California, come and see what my city like
Babies losin' hope when they see they momma hit the pipe
Rosecrans, Berks Street, n*ggas tryin' to murk me
God, it hit me first, G

[Chorus: The Game & Meek Mill]
This right here the soundtrack to a real n*gga life
Comin' from a city where they kill n*ggas like
"La-da-da, la-da-da"
The soundtrack to a real n*gga life
Comin' from a city where they kill n*ggas like
"La-da-da, la-da-da"
[Verse 2: Meek Mill & The Game]
Uh, my dog doin' life
Cause he ain't had no safety like the Rams' secondary
And he come out in 2060, Nevuary, never scared
Cause I got real n*ggas everywhere
That'll cut your life short like it's February
Killer Cali, where them burnouts is necessary
'Specially when the feds is tappin' phones like secretaries
sh*t real like 2Pac's obituary
Kill him, B.I.G. too, but they memory legendary
And where I'm from, you get murdered like hereditary
They killed my homie, we came back like it was January
The first n*gga aimin' to murk, n*gga
f*ck your chain, want your shoes, your jean and your shirt, n*gga
Cause it's cold out, f*ck your concert cause you sold out
Your dad didn't teach you all that sh*t you sing that song 'bout
So what you talkin' about?
Absolutely nothin', they ain't us, Meek, f*ck 'em, cause

[Chorus: The Game & Meek Mill]
This right here the soundtrack to a real n*gga life
Comin' from a city where they kill n*ggas like
"La-da-da, la-da-da"
The soundtrack to a real n*gga life
Comin' from a city where they kill n*ggas like
"La-da-da, la-da-da"
[Bridge: Meek Mill]
From Philly to Compton, n*gga
I fell in love with these streets, I lost my n*ggas too
But I'll be damned I'll let one of you n*ggas take my life

[Verse 3: The Game & Meek Mill]
Meek, tell 'em that I'm back on my grizzly though
Most these rappers' life is like a f*ckin' Miguel video
Compton killed eight of my n*ggas, but that's my city though
Yeah, we movin' birds, but we throw 'em like a Frisbee though
n*ggas sellin' flat-screens, sixty-inch VIZIOs
Blow on a stone, smokin' chronic on commodes
Listenin' to Hov like "I got to get my weight up"
The system was made to break us, but they can't take us, no
And I know they hate us though cause we really made it though
Ballin' like we Jordan, n*ggas shootin', try and fade me though
O.G. Bobby Johnson, .44 with the potato nose
Turn you mashed potato, bro, but it's all gravy though
I done been to church to mosque, it couldn't save me though
sh*t, I got to save myself before I try to save a ho
f*ck your role model, it was gold bottles after the gold hollows

[Chorus: The Game & Meek Mill]
This right here the soundtrack to a real n*gga life
Comin' from a city where they kill n*ggas like
"La-da-da, la-da-da"
The soundtrack to a real n*gga life
Comin' from a city where they kill n*ggas like
"La-da-da, la-da-da"