In the five years since Game revived the West Coast gangsta-rap scene with the critically acclaimed CD, Documentary, he has racked up an impressive portfolio of platinum records, award nominations — and enemies. Every album had a new enemy and featured a new diss song, as if the beefs were part of the release packet. Quite naturally, fans are probably eager to swipe up Game’s R.E.D. album, due in February, just to see what new victim he’s ripping chunks of flesh out of.
Well, time will soon tell if hard-core fans of Game will digest the newest incarnation of the Compton, Calif.-bred gangsta rapper. He’s flipped the script totally. Gone from the menu are the usually fattening, but nonethe-less delicious tidbits that fans gorged themselves on from Game’s multi-course persona: the drama, the fights, the menacing posse, the gun wielding incidents, the assaults on fans, the run-ins with the law, etc. And that’s before they’d even delved into the main course — which, of course, is the music. 
On the eve of his fourth studio album, an enlightened Game is presenting a more laid-back vibe, one that starkly counters the perception people have of him.
Fatherhood and positive associations have hastened the 28-year-old’s evolution from the Cedar Block Piru Bloods gang member — to angry, arrogant artist — to seasoned musical veteran and family man.
“What people don’t understand about me, man, is that I’m an energy guy. I like good energy. And my energy is just wonderful as far as the inner core of who I surround myself with, [from] my management, to my publishing, to my friends,” he says. “My boss might be Jimmy [lovine, chairman of Interscope/Geffen/A&M Records], but we [go to each other’s] kids’ birthday parties at Disneyland. It’s just the energy, man. It’s real people doing real things. I don’t [do] what I consider beyond the norm for a regular human being. I don’t do it anymore.”
That’s nice to hear, because at one time people would hide the women and children when Game rolled up on the set. No one was immune from Game’s heat-seeking temper: 50 Cent, G-Unit, Jay-Z, Memphis Bleek, Yukmouth … it didn’t matter. Game’s beefs came to define him after awhile. If you were in his way, he was going to peel your hide. No question. Hell, he even charbroiled Christina Milian when her feet were exposed in a recent photo: “… so many corns on them mu——kaz they should come wit chicken and mash potatoes,” Game tweeted. 
But as he declared in an exclusive interview with rolling out, Game has altered his outlook on life and it’s going to be reflected in his music. Part of the change of heart has to do with his tight friendship with Virginia Beach, Va.-based producer Pharrell. On the surface, it would seem that the two would go together about as well as chocolate cheesecake and malt liquor. But Game says the two soon discarded their preconceived notions of the other and developed a powerful brotherly bond that sparked high-quality creativity in the studio.
“Me and Pharell … we established in six months’ time a sort of like a brotherhood. … I’m pretty sure [if] you talk to him, he’d say the same thing — it’s a bond that’s unbreakable,” he says. “And it’s not really [about the] music. It’s outside of music. Pharrell [gets into the studio] and we get in a zone and everything becomes ABC. It’s just real easy to [get] together in the studio. The songs just come out so remarkable and so crazy that everyone from women to men — you can be a thug or you can have a 9 to 5 — everybody appreciates the music, so I know that what we’re doing is catastrophic.”
While it’s clear Game is using the term “catastrophic” in a colloquially positive sense, many onlookers predicted he’d encounter a literal “catastrophe” at some point in his young life. One of Game’s boys had been shot a few years ago when they were en route to a radio interview in New York, allegedly by someone in 50 Cent’s camp. Several other near-disastrous conflicts had been averted by the narrowest of margins, including one with Death Row founder Suge Knight. Game’s people tried to get him to pump the brakes on all the madness and mayhem that usually accompanied a Game production.
“I think that the last person that told me something that I really appreciated was Pharrell, and I didn’t know that was possible. My boss is Jimmy Iovine, and Dre and my manager all tried to talk to me. Everybody always tried to steer ‘Game’ in the right direction or tell me to fall back from doing this. But I do me,” he says. “But it wasn’t until me and Pharrell had conversations … [that] I really understood his perspective of who I was and my career and my music — and he told me from a fan’s standpoint and not from being Pharrell Williams. It meant a lot to me. That’s probably the only person that I’ve taken advice from. Other than that, it’s me behind those decisions.”
But he and Williams weren’t the only ones behind R.E.D., Cool and Dre, DJ Khalil and Dr. Dre all lend their production efforts, while Beanie Sigel, Rick Ross, Justin Timberlake and Robin Thicke come in for some collaborations.
Also gone from Game’s repertoire are the trinkets and doodads that were synonymous with his public attire. There was a time when Game would wear his entire paycheck on his back. He basically became a walking testament to conspicuous consumption.
“I spent somewhere between $750 grand and a million dollars on jewelry in the beginning of my career. Which now I look up and I don’t have any of it. It’s been given to my friends, and my homies wear all the chains,” he says without pride or shame. “It’s a false reality and that’s something that I want to detach myself from. I really don’t want to be known as the guy that walks around with the magic hat with the magic shoes with the belts. I ain’t that guy.”
Now that the mist has cleared around Game, he’s able to peep out things better. Game now behaves like the mentor who first brought him into the fold, Dr. Dre.
“I used to always wonder why [Dr. Dre] would make one face [during photo shoots]. He wouldn’t change it. He wouldn’t smile. He wouldn’t turn profile. It [would] just be straight on. If you saw Dr. Dre in pictures, it’s always straight up. It’s the same facial expression. And I asked, ‘Yo, why do you do that?’ and he said, ‘It’s the only way I like to see myself … When the magazine cover comes back or the album comes back and when someone is taking pictures and I see it, it’s the only way I like to see myself,’ ” Game recalls. “You think [Dre is] being rude, but he just knows. So after that, you know, if I don’t feel comfortable doing it, I’m not doing it. And, at the end of day, I have to be happy with it. I mean, the photographer’s taking pictures, you guys got a magazine to sell, but I’ve gotta be comfortable with who I am.”
But don’t get it twisted. Game can easily hit the recall button and bring the noise if it comes to it — but that’s not where he is anymore.
“We can still click that light on and off if pushed to that level. But that’s not what we’re looking for, not in these times. I’m just not down with that anymore, at all,” he says. “I even know stone cold killers and n—-z fresh out of jail that are just trying to button up. … We ain’t really on that. [Now] I got n—-z that [will] go swallow bullets if they come. But I [don’t] encourage [that], nor do I want anyone around me and my entourage to go to jail. We don’t do that. We have happy times. We watch Lakers’ games and we all get together on Sundays and we go to birthday parties. It’s good.”
These days, the most drama Game sees is in his own office with PlayStation. After he devours two or three rounds of highlights on ESPN and knocks off a bowl of Frosted Flakes, he’ll dive into his home office and fire up “one game of John Madden and a couple of rounds of Call of Duty. And then [he’s] ready to be late for whatever [he’s] doing.” 
He’s done the gangsta stuff — before and during his record deal. Game’s appetite for drama has waned and he simply attributes it to his growth as a man and an artist.
“As human beings, we grow every day. I mean, everybody grows. You could be robbing banks; after a while, you’re a better bank robber [than] when you started. Or you could be going backwards. But you’re never the same person, man,” he says. “But right now, my focus is I like to be happy. Every day that I wake up on the right side of the bed, it’s just [about] feeling good. It’s just good energy, man, and I’m not turning back from it ‘cause I like the way I feel every day.”
