conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called On Me with the following description: Kendrick Lamar once again collaborates with Game on his long awaited sequel to his classic debut album, The Documentary. This has been highly anticipated ever since the snippet from the track was released.
  This marks the fourth time Game has collaborated with the fellow Compton MC. In 2011, “The City” played a major role in launching Kendrick’s career into superstardom. Other songs he collaborated with him on were “Murder” and “See No Evil”.
   Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Produced by Bongo]
  [Intro]
  (Gunshot)
  On and On
  On and On
  On and On
  On and On
  [Verse 1: The Game]
  Back when Dot was hangin' out at Top's in the Benzo
  Freestylin' to them 
  Chronic
   instrumentals, no pens and pencils
  I was out there Bloodin' like a menstrual
  With a Backwood clinched between my dentals, way back when
  When we was outside with the indo
  Hotboxin' rentals in front of Centennial
  Remedial thoughts, never thought that I would amount to shit
  "Smoke chronic, fuck bitches, ride around bouncin'" shit
  From Impalas to that Harley truck, to dishraggin' bitches
  That was hard to fuck, I came up, it was hardly luck
  Just left Compton, and I ain't have to use my AK
  What a day, what a day
  [Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar]
  Back when my driver's license was babyfaced and triflin'
  I made my way through crisis, I made my tape
  And recorded portraits in front of sirens,
   
  I made you hate the vibrant
  You can't escape the tyrant, you can't relate where I've been
  In '98, my problem: actin' too grown and shit
  Cappin' at bitches, yeah, my religion through songs and shit
  On me, that's on me
  Raise up, nigga, you are not the homie
  Bitch, I’m well-connected from my section down to Long Beach
  Fumblin' with Tetris if your block neglectin' your ki
  Every day, I wake up with my face up to my Father
  Makin' sure my heart is pure enough to grow my seed and harvest
  All my green and stuff and double up my plantation with dollar
  Every dream is such reality, my déjà vu done caught up
  Bitch, I'm brought up with the homies, that's on me
  24/7, Kendrick reverend these cold streets
  Dog, we live by it, die by it, then reincarnate
  And if Game told me, "Drive by it," I raise AK
  Ain't no shame on it, cry about it, fuck that, I play
  Like no name on it, blindsided, ain't no one safe
  Documentary
   had identities of where I'm from
  Therefore, my energy had to make sure the better me won
  It ain't no better one, son, it ain't no tellin' me nothin'
  Nigga, that's Chuck, Doc Dre and K, the legacy's done, BLAOW! [Interlude: Kendrick Lamar]
  Oh, man
  You thought these niggas with attitude would show gratitude?
  Fooled you
  From 2015 to infinity, it's still bomb weed and Hennessy
  I can pimp a butterfly for the energy
  Game, I need acapella
  [Verse 3: The Game]
  There I go, give me a minute, nigga
  'Bout to hit a home run, K. Dot, grab the pennant, nigga
  Pin it on my Pendleton,
   
  trap late night, Jay Leno them
  Got my mom a tennis bracelet, Wimbledon of Wilmington
  Now, can I rap for a minute? Black on the track for a minute
  Look in my rhyme book, see murder, like when I was a fan of No Limit
  Ain't no gimmicks 'round here, this Compton, me, Doc and Kendrick
  Chronic
  , 
  good kid
  , my first—yeah, three documentaries
  Now I'm blockin' sentries,
   
  16 Impalas
  They bounce like they Iguodala
  That's on my mama, niggas up and did me a solid
  I put that on me, that's on me
  You get a bullet fuckin' with the lil' homie
  Thinkin' back then like, "Fuck your rules, nigga this is Piru"
  Slide through with the Erykah Badu
  West side Compton, nigga, don't mind if I do
  From Piru Street to my old street
  Nigga this Compton, grew up on a dead end
  Got an armful of dead friends
  Round here Crips be sweatin' us niggas like a headband
  Like, "What's up, cuz?" (Yo dawg where you from?)
  No time to stop and think
  Pull your strap before they do or you get shot before you blink
  Straight outta Compton, 3 times I told you
  The third time I said it with TDE motherfucker
  I'll make you eat every letter
  Spoonfeed you niggas like toddlers,
   
  from the city of Impalas
  When shot callers take their pitbulls and feed them niggas rottweilers
  My clip full, I quick pull, no more slangin' 8 balls on the corner
  And all them niggas I used to freestyle with, I ate y'all on the corner
  Call the coroner, niggas dead out here
  Hangin' onto life by a thread out here
  Them niggas wearin' all that red out here
  P snapbacks on niggas heads out here
  So don't you come fuckin' with the little homie
  So OG they call me Tony
  Montana, no French, my red bandana legit
  My uncle told me before he died, "Just keep your hand on the brick" (So I did)
  Sell every chicken that a nigga had in stock, yes I did
  Walked to Compton, hot pocket full of rocks, yes I did
  Skipped class, yes I did, whooped niggas' ass, yes I did
  Fucked a bitch behind the bleachers while on the rag, that's on Bloods
  Westside, that's on Bloods, this TEC fly, that's on Bloods
  You fuck with Dot, I'll let you choke on your blood
  I put that— [Outro: Kendrick Lamar]
  On me, that's on me
  On me, that's on me
  On me, that's on me
  Raise up, nigga you are not the homie
  On me, that's on me
  On me, that's on me
  On me, that's on me
  Raise up, nigga you are not the homie