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F-words fly like snow in a Colorado blizzard. A half-dozen tracks glamorize gangsta violence with lines such as “It’s hard not to kill n-ggaz/It’s like a full-time job not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill” (“Scream on Em”). Game and his cronies shake a fist at police (“Doctor’s Advocate”) and call women “b–ches” and “hos.” Females are faceless trophies, dehumanized accessories that exist to satisfy the rapper’s perverse sexual urges. He likes to jump from one partner to the next on “Remedy,” “Let’s Ride,” “Scream on Em” and “Wouldn’t Get Far,” which states, “I f— ’em today and forget about ’em tomorrow.” There are also graphic references to oral sex (“Bang,” “Da S***,” “Around the World,” “California Vacation”). Marijuana and cocaine are drugs of choice throughout. “Let’s Ride” finds Game celebrating at a club by “poppin’ pills like M&Ms.” Beyond swigging vast quantities of Henny, Patron, 40s, Cristal and Olde English, he also combines booze with a drive-by shooting (“Ol’ English”). “Remedy” proclaims, “In crack we trust.”
As if describing some religious conversion, Game’s lyrics praise gangsta rap for touching his soul and introducing him to chronic at age 12. It’s scary to think he may be influencing other kids the same way. “One Night” even brags, “I use my rap money to put crack in the ‘hood.” All the more reason not to make a contribution.
