Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 4:38 | ||||
Aww yeah, uhh, uhh
Holla if ya hear me, yeah! (Verse One) Here we go, turn it up, let's start From block to block we snatchin hearts and jackin marks And the punk police can't fade me, and maybe We can have peace someday G But right now I got my mind set up Lookin down the barrel of my nine, get up Cause it's time to make the payback fat To my brothers on the block better stay strapped, black And accept no substitutes I bring truth to the youth tear the roof off the whole school Oh no, I won't turn the other cheek In case ya can't see us while we burn the other week Now we got him in a smash, blast How long will it last 'til the po' gettin mo' cash Until then, raise up! Tell my young black males, blaze up! Life's a mess don't stress, test I'm givin but be thankful that you're livin, blessed Much love to my brothers in the pen See ya when I free ya if not when they shove me in Once again it's an all out scrap Keep your hands on ya gat, and now ya boys watch ya back Cause in the alleys out in Cali I'ma tell ya Mess with the best and the vest couldn't help ya Scream, if ya feel me; see it clearly? You're too near me - (Chorus) (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (Verse Two) Pump ya fists like this Holla if ya hear me - PUMP PUMP if you're pissed To the sell-outs, livin it up One way or another you'll be givin it up, huh I guess cause I'm black born I'm supposed to say peace, sing songs, and get capped on But it's time for a new plan, BAM! I'll be swingin like a one man, clan Here we go, turn it up, don't stop To my homies on the block gettin dropped by cops I'm still around for ya Keepin my sound underground for ya And I'ma throw a change up Quayle, like you never brought my name up Now my homies in the backstreets, the blackstreets They feel me when they rollin in they fat jeeps This ain't just a rap song, a black song Tellin all my brothers, get they strap on And look for me in the struggle Hustlin 'til other brothers bubble - (Chorus) (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! (Verse Three) Will I quit, will I quit? They claim that I'm violent, but still I keep representin, never give up, on a good thing Wouldn't stop it if we could it's a hood thing And now I'm like a major threat Cause I remind you of the things you were made to forget Bring the noise, to all my boyz Know the real from the bustas and the decoys And if ya hustle like a real G Pump ya fists if ya feel me, holla if ya hear me Learn to survive in the nine-tre' I make rhyme pay, others make crime pay Whatever it takes to live and stand Cause nobody else'll give a damn So we live like caged beasts Waitin for the day to let the rage free Still me, till they kill me I love it when they fear me - (Chorus) (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (2Pac) You're too near me, to see it clearly (repeat 4x) (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." (repeat 2X) "Hard!" .. "Tellin you to hear it, the rebel" - P.E. "Tellin you to hear it.." "Hard!" .. "The rebel" "Hard!" .. "The rebel" (repeat 12X to fade) (2Pac) Holla if ya hear me! "Hard!" .. "The rebel" |
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2. |
| 1:56 | ||||
3. |
| 4:26 | ||||
"You could get the finger.. the middle!" (1}
"Come and get some!" (2} (2Pac) Ahh yeah, they love to point the finger (1} (2} Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch (1} (2} Niggaz love to point the finga Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch (1} (2} (2Pac) I thought I hit rock bottom, they ban my album, point the finga I guess nobody loves a real nigga-slash-rap singer I thought I'd bring a little truth to the young troops I brought proof that the niggaz need guns too It's not to be a racist, but let's face this: wouldn't you if we could trade places? I got lynched by some crooked cops, and to this day them same motherfuckers on the beat gettin major paid But when I get my check they takin tax out So, we payin for these pigs to knock the blacks out Ain't that a bitch, some officers are gettin rich Whoopin on thugs and robbin drug dealers for they shit As far as jealousy, bein a celebrity No matter who committed the crime, they all yell at me And the media is greedier than most You could sell em your soul or they'll be on ya til a niggaz ghost And everyday I read the paper there's another lie They show my picture for the crimes of another guy Now how's that for the life of a big shot A dead cop, a law suit, a little kid shot I play them nuttin ass marks in the park for tryin to earn they stripes in the dark Just cause I come there, don't mean I from there, peep: only jealous motherfuckers beef, and point the finga Chorus: repeat 4X Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch (1} (2} (2Pac) As I run up on em madman, a nutcase with a screw loose A zoot troupe full of foolies with toolies Niggaz run to me don't come to me with beef Take your jewels and your jeep, boom boom! Let that ass sleep It's gettin hectic, niggaz run, quick Buckshots are the payback for dumb shit All you niggaz on the block tryin to test me Best wear a vest or get open like, sesame I'll run up on you mad deep; while you're tryin to sleep I'm steady pumpin bullets in your sheets Wake up, motherfucker, don't stutter Point blank by a nigga from the gutter, yeah! Gimme mine, gimme mine, gimme, mine Ban my rhymes, now I'm back to bustin, nines And bustaz can't get none, hell no A quick flurry and he's buried with a swelled jaw I came up from the amateurs to pro hits at 5-0, so you know I take no shit And everybody wants to kill a bringer of bad news, so they choose, to point the finga Chorus (2Pac) One two three, peace to the real G's Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me I bring skills and I build, kill at will Smoke sess til I'm ill, still feel me? I say one two three, peace to the real G's Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me Pick it up, pick it up, give it up Best to duck or get fucked for your bucks Scream one two three, peace to the real G's Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me I can't give up, it's a black thang And I ain't goin back to the crack game (You can do it son; be a man and stand up or run) Bitches, let em point the finga (You can do it son; be a man and stand up or run) Snitches, let em point the finga Yo, one two three, peace to the real G's Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me I guess nobody loves a rap singer That's why these motherfuckers.. (hahaha!) point the finga Chorus Chorus Chorus 3/4 |
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4. |
| 2:43 | ||||
(*laughter echoes*)
I've changed... You motherfuckers kill me I've changed... It ain't that i've changed But it's strange how you motherfuckers rearrange When I found fame Point ya finger at tha bad guy You know what my momma used to tell me If ya can't find something to live for.. .. then you BEST, find something ta die for (Richard Pryor: "If there's hell below, we're all gonna go!") (*Repite the above throughout*) Deep deep La'tasha Hardings, remember that name... Cause a bottle of juice... ain't something to die for Young Quaid, remember that name... Cause all you motherfuckers That go to your grave with that name on your brain Cause jealousy and recklessness is NOT, something to die for All you niggas out there (*echoed laughter*) Got a crack that crumbles When I say all you niggas (all you niggas) Unite One nigga, teach two niggas Four niggas teach more niggas All the poor niggas The pen niggas The rich niggas The strong niggas UNITE There's more of us than there is of them Look around... Check your strip Deep deep That's something to die for Black That's something to live for What do I know? |
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5. |
| 3:37 | ||||
(Man)Got any last wordz?
(Ice T)Yeah, yeah I got some last wordz Once again it's on Ice cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house the nigga you love to hate Ice cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house the nigga you love to hate Ice cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house the nigga you love to hate Ice cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house the nigga you love to hate (ICE CUBE) Yo, here comes the nigga with the ruff, terror the para-noid, gots to get the boy Get your steel cuz I feel like a headbanger Yah, I got a gang of shits, styles guns my uzi wieghts a mutha-fuckin' ton bucking down one, bucking down two, bucking down your crew, mutha fuck you Pigs wear blue I wear black, nothing but black Cause god damn its a brand new payback Fuck Pat Sajak, never did nothing for a nigga on tha trigga the zigga the zag the nickel the bag the nigga the sag the forty four mag. got you runnin' like a fag So, keep your mutha-fuckin' jokes Cuz, I'm that nigga with a fresh pair of locs No yokes but smokes Crakers and them dirty mackers friends aren't jackers get yah for your drawers, young niggas out to kill for the cars Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house (Ice T) O to the mutha fuckin G I break crazy a lot of niggas hate me but they can't fade me Stop me clock me cops wanna glock me mutha fuck mutha fuck pigs can't stop me Uhh, am I a G, I got proof Banged in my youth, keep niggas on the roof with a scope, dough, Cube keep the rope Tupac string a nigga up Hit the mob dope So whats up Punk You want what I got step to me wrong fuck around and get shot Your moms crying fuck her bust her Bitch start screaming to me and I'll dust her Pops got the LP phat, track on hit Laid by the mutha fuckin' Bobcat Ninety three suckas want me to go out Throw the hoe out, bitch mutha fucker I'm rich Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house Got any last wordz (Tupac) Now they're after me, why? cuz a niggas black Sit back Ain't afraid to pull a triggar back Let 'em come step to a real mutha-fucker (Boom, Boom) Mama ain't raised no suckers Dan Quayle, don't you know you need to get your ass kicked Where was you when there was niggas in the caskets? Mutha-fucker rednecks all the same Feel a real nigga if he ain't balled and chained That's why we burn shit and wreck Cause the punk police ain't learned shit yet You mutha-fuckas gonna pay the price Can't make a Black life, don't take a Black life It's on, the next real nigga fall dead Dred, jheri curl, process, or bald head Be prepared for the smoke to bust What niggas need to do is start loc'in up United we stand divided we fall They can shoot one nigga But they can't take us alll Let's get along with the Mexicans And we can all have peace on the sets again Imagine that if it took place (ha ha ha) Keeping the smile off their white fakes I ain't racist but lets trade places Trace the hate 'n face it One nigga teach two niggas three teach four niggas And them niggas teach more niggas And when we blast That'll be the biggest blast you've heard And them is my last wordz |
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6. |
| 3:17 | ||||
(dorky sounding white guy)
Mr. Shakur, can you please explain the meaning behind your violent lyrics? (2Pac) Explain the meaning? The fuck these niggaz talkin bout? * sounds of running and sirens in background * (Kid) Damn... (Cop) Police, FREEZE! (Kid) Can't get shit off! (Cop) I said FREEZE you miserable black son of a bitch! (Kid) What, come on, come on! * gun shot * --(Pac): Tupac Shakur as himself --(Soul): Tupac Shakur as 'Souljah' (Soul) My attitude is shitty My message to the censorship committee Who's the biggest gang of niggaz in the city? (Pac) The critics or the cops? (Soul) The courts or the crooks, don't look so confused Take a closer look (Pac) Niggaz get they neck broke daily Tryin to stay jail free (Soul) What the fuck does Quayle know of young black males? (both) Please tell me (Soul) Message to the censorship committee Who's the biggest gang of niggaz in the city? (Pac) Huh, I pack a nine millimeter cause I got em livin hotter than the 4th of July, if I gotta die, I gotta (Soul) Momma told me, Don't let em fade me.. (both) .. nigga don't let em make you crazy! Game is what she gave me (Pac) Gotta watch your back, strapped (Soul) Real niggaz rat-pack (Pac) If you get your ass taxed, bring a gat back That's not the way we made it (Soul) That's just the way it is (both) Slangin rocks, in front of niggaz kids (Pac) I came up My message to the censorship committee Who's the biggest gang of niggaz in the city? Cops pull me over, check my plates, but I'm legal (Soul) You couldn't get me, figure, Fuck with a niggaz people (Pac) They got me trapped, gat with the motherfuckin hammer back (Soul) Cops on my back, just cause I'm black, SNAP (Pac) Now I'm guilty? Message to the censorship committee Who's the biggest gang of niggaz in the city? (both) All you punk police will never find peace on the streets til the niggaz get a piece, fuck em! (Soul) They kill you to control ya (PAY) top dollar for your soul (both) Real niggaz don't fold, straight souljah! (Pac) Can't find peace on the streets til the niggaz get a piece, fuck police, hear them screamin Fuck em! Can't find peace on the streets til the niggaz get a piece, fuck police, hear them screamin (I hear ya!) Fuck em! Can't find peace on the streets til the niggaz get a piece, fuck police, screamin (I hear ya!) Fuck em! Can't find peace on the streets til the niggaz get a piece, fuck police, screamin (I hear ya!) Fuck em! Can't find peace on the streets til the niggaz get a piece, fuck police (I hear ya!) Fuck em! Can't find peace on the streets til the niggaz get a piece, fuck police (I hear ya!) Fuck em! Can't find peace on the streets til the niggaz get a piece, fuck police (I hear ya!) The niggaz scream fuck em! (Soul) Motherfuckin punk police (I hear ya!) Thinkin they run the motherfuckin streets It's mo' niggaz than it's police Think (I hear ya!) One nigga, teach two niggaz teach three niggaz, teach fo' niggaz (I hear ya!) teach mo' niggaz, and we could run this shit! (both) I hear ya! They finally pulled me over and I laughed Remember Rodney King and I blast on his punk ass (I hear ya!) (repeat 10X with snips and scratches) (Soul) Souljah |
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7. |
| 4:28 | ||||
So what the fuck you talkin about?! Aw, shit.
Goody, goody, gumdrops. Nigga, get your hoodie and your gun cocked. Rock it till the drum stops. Hip hop. Even if my shit flip flop And it probably wouldn't stop. Talk shit and get socked. How ya hang em? Know a realer nigga? You could bring him. If I don't represent the shit, I'll kick it. We could sway him. As if I know ya. Huh. Then I could show ya. But if I don't know, I gotta fo' fo' fo' ya. So, so peep game At point blank range. The fame can't change what the game maintains. Strange. Wind against the grain. Aw shit. Flick or no flick I trips for no bitch. Catch up on your pimpin. I ain't simpin. I'm a dis her. Couldn't be my sister if she actin like I missed her. Tell me why they, tell me why they, tell me why they play me. Don't these niggas know that neither one of y'all can fade me. I ain't big, I ain't buff, I ain't diesel. But fuck wit Tupac and pop goes the weesel. Me and Threat made a bet on how many fellas Would jack a motha fuckin real nigga cuz they jealous. They do it for the fame. Explain. Insane. What's in a name? What's in a name? Peep game. Chorus: Punk bitch, how ya like me now? Can't fuck around wit the funky style. Put it together like a puzzle builder. If Trenton don't get cha, pops gon' kill ya. Killa Cali. The state where they kill. Down wit Oaktown? What's up homie, can I chill? The bitches lookin funny. Feel em at me. Feel em at me wit they minds on they heaven Wit they .357. -Where you at? *On the freeway, deep in LA. -OK, see you when get here loc. *OK. -Here I am. Here I am. *Goddamn that was quick. -Told ya I was comin. Who is that? Is that your woman? *Na, that's just a hooch looking for some juice. -What's up my nigga? What ya know? A nigga got a little bigger. That's all folks know. No Fat gold ropes. Gotta keep a low key for my attack. When I approach, I want the diamonds, the pearls. The round the way girls. Cuz baby got, baby got back out this world. Would you give a fee? Never. Fly like a feather. Make more money than your daddie and your mother put together. The game is to be sold, not to be told. So buy it. Can't afford it? Low budget hoes gotta brother. Peep game. Chorus Don't sell out. Get the hell out. Cuz here I come. Hit em with my bop gun. They came and they blast. We got wit they ass. And oh, pop this vest and all the rest of that mess. Comin through like Terminater 2. Boost your crew cuz we ain't afraid of you. You know what time it is wit me once the clock stike 3. We goin coo-coo like Cocoa Puffs. ooohwee Chorus Time to get paid, time to get paid. Check. Time to represent the west. On me: nuttin but a vest. Got my hands on my glock, eyes on the prize. First sucka jump, first nigga die. Gimme mine, gimme mine, gimme mine like I told ya. Hard as a boulder. Motha fuckin souja. Boom bam boom!! It's a stick up. Vice president Dan Quayle eat a dick up. Peep game. Chorus 2x (Spoken by Tupac) Punk bitch Fuck all those motha fuckas, they all can eat a motha fuckin dick up. Word up. Fuck the police. I don't give a fuck. Bobcat in this motha fucka boy. Big up! Big up! To the criminals. Fuck em. this is serious business. Yeah, microphone mafia. Tupac, Threat, Bobcat. 93 shot. Yeah nigga, bitch |
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8. |
| 3:34 | ||||
Eat a dick up
Chorus (Rakim): Stick up, stick up, stick up kids... still don't nothin move but the money (2x) Verse One: Live Squad Strugglin, jugglin, got it to the black man Eatin the scams like I was motherfuckin Pac Man Cops step off, you know the flavor They fear the ruffneck niggaz with the lunatic behavior And now we gotta eat, gotta make ends meet Stabbin for a fee, it gets hard on the fuckin streets It's like a madness, fuck making gravy I rhyme and do crimes, cuz either way pays me A little rough with a hardcore... theme Couldn't rough something rougher in your... dreams Mad rugged so you know we're gonna... rip With that roughneck nigga named 2Pacalypse Representing YG'z yo Flip Stretch Homicide and my nigga Gambino Seek and Po can't forget Money Bags Stickin up spots and jumpin in Jags Gotta get ahead and always stay bumblin And always keep a hand on the gat Cuz a niggaz straight strugglin Chorus (Rakim): Stick up, stick up, stick up kids... still don't nothin move but the money (2x) Verse Two: Live Squad I used to be on tour, but now I'm sick of strugglin I thought about bumpin, but mother-fuck jugglin I know it lasts longer, gets my pockets thicker But I'd rather use my gun cause I get the money quicker, so bust it Look as I cut the records hard to eject A quick clip threw my body down uhh! it's another hit I got energy to blast now you want the task here Cuz of the light a motherfucker shot that ass up But rugged and rough is how I'm steppin Mac is the weapon, and it's always kept in Eye on the Mac cause the dog got it goin on If you come up steppin you'll be lit like a hick So you better chill, cause I got too much money to get A street thug in the motherfuckin house, I'm strugglin Get drunk but I don't think I'm just in it for the money, don't be a punk snitch When I yank up my gun, don't run don't bitch Cause ya know if you do, you'll be layin in a ditch You'll get your stupid ass blown out the frame Cause I'm playing to win, and survive in the game I'm strugglin Chorus (Rakim): Stick up, stick up, stick up kids... still don't nothin move but the money (2x) Verse Three: 2Pac Big up, big up, got him in the frame, bang Ain't nothin changed set it off I let the brains hang Guess who's back, to put niggaz on they back Till I call back, niggaz runnin free better fall back I'm fifty niggaz deep beat sleep with a Mossberg wrapped in my seats three deep in my Jeep chief run with the Young Gunz Strugglin and strivin, that's how the dough come Now get gunned by the one with the gun for the low goal Throw a bolo so low when I flow yo Much too high to read the signs, I'm blind Clickin on the nine, out to get mine I go big up, big up, gotta make the room, boom Blowin motherfuckers to the moon Niggaz need to feel me a real G, home from the bumblin See me on the block, strugglin And rollin with the roughnecks nuff checks cashed I get in niggaz ass, blast Straight strugglin Chorus (Rakim): Stick up, stick up, stick up kids... still don't nothin move but the money (Repeats) |
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9. |
| 3:07 | ||||
Guess who's back?
(2Pac) Drop the drums, here it comes, only got two minutes to bounce, and every second counts Better press, wreck on your tech, here we go, set pass the Moet My trickery's more slippery when wet Wicked as I flip, don't trip, get a grip It'll kick, if the bass line's thick, it's a hit Everybody's got a mic now, its like a hobby But more like a job, cause bootleggers tryin to rob me And little man wants to be a rap, star Make papes, hit skins, drive a fat car It ain't easy, sleazy even Decievin those we, believe in No benefits, just tricks and chicks Knock a pig to pick, so here's a stick to lick I shoot a gift, til there ain't none left And if I find that the track sound deaf I catch wreck till I lose my breath That's how it goes in the land of broke I dispose of those, rock shows, and collect my dough Now I suppose I'm the bad guy, why? I say, Hi, and try to stay high Life's a mess don't stress, test.. of givin but be thankful that you're livin.. blessed Guess who's back, comin back with the track supplied by Special Ed and Ak, comin right and exact I'm fightin it back, now snap, where they at? When it's time to go to combat, guess who's back Chorus: repeat 4X Yes I'm back -> Special Ed Tupac is .. back!! (2Pac) Drop the drums, here it comes, only got one minute to bounce, and every second counts I went from hustlin dicks, to makin hits, bustin flicks Now I'm sure to be rich for ninety-six I pull my 'capes on tapes, and make, papes Trace the bass, to the tape with the baddest bass to date I try to shake it but the pace is hard to break Good thoughts I wait, cause they hate my black take Yeah, it's on, and it's packed in the rap race But if ya got a black face, its a rat race I struggle to be rugged and raw, Dukes Tryin to survive in the trials and lawsuits Everybody wants to test me, why me? No lie, nuckas cried when they try me Givin up the roughness, justice I'ma bust as I'm rippin up 'nuff hits And guess who's back? No longer trapped Cause I snapped on the ones that held me back, feel the contact Ride the track, get I grip as I flip Ghetto wickedness I kick, guess who's back? Chorus 1.5X Yes I'm back, cause I never did front -> cut 'n' scratched |
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10. |
| 3:34 | ||||
I got a head, but ain't no screws in it.
Roll up and get swoll up. Hold up. How ya gonna play me like a sunkin dunkin donut? I ain't came a long way to get checked So give me respect when I get wreck or get your motha fuckin chimp check. Once again, it's your friend outta Oakland. Hoping I rock the shit to get ya open. Say your looking for some real shit. Then catch a funkdified batch. Like that!! Oakland's on the map. Tupac is on the big screen strivin. Gotta love a nigga for survivin. I wear alot of old schools jewels. Look how the fools ??. Ooohh. Stop lookin at me hard cuz your buffer. But I'll just buck then bigger motha fuckas. Turnin men to suckas. Niggas wanna start a little ruckus. Better duck cuz I'll be poundin them motha fuckas. They wanna throw their hands up. Thats tight. Hit em wit my eight. Never had shit left, right. Then hit em wit the uppercut. Duck quick. Shit outta luck. Fucked and stuck with that rough shit. Fuck a pop song, fuck a video, fuck Arsenio, fuck the radio. Do you hear me though? Give a holla to my niggas in the pen. And my murderous partners with their Mac 10's. I represent the real cuz I'm ill, G. Glock cocked and then they kill me. I'm representin'. I got a head, but ain't no screws in it. Strictly Representin I got a head, but ain't no screws in it. Peace to Redman, Tretch, Vin Rock, K-G the great one Mary J. Blidge, Pete Rock and sure you're late son. Heavy D, CL Smooth, and Queen Latifah. Too Short, Tony Toni Tone, And the Special motha fucka, Ed Lover, the Tribe, A Tribe Called Quest, and Jungle Brothas. Das Efx, EPMD, and Ice Cube. House of Pain: funky blunted ass white dudes. Cypress Hill, yeah, they ill niggas. Digital Underground: my real niggas. Raw Fusion, all in house confusion. Wickeder than most men: Spice 1 and Pooh Man. TLC, Eric B rockin, then Scarface. Stretch, Mad K-Low, pumpin the scars bass. Thoro Headz, Poonannynans, the Click. Mmmm. E-40, The Governen and Richie Rich. Young Guns in the house pumpin the flava. DJ Ditch for their behavior. Off the head, my freestyle flow. Just a couple of motha fuckas that I know. I'm strictly representin I got a head, but ain't no screws in it. Yeah Stricly Representin 1 motha fucka, 2 motha fucka, 3 motha fuckas, Damn, who did I forget? But aint no screws in it I'm a soulja. Daddy was a soulja. Strong in the struggle. Must contend so it's on. Raised in a house full of bad motha fuckas. Mad motha fuckas. Never had so we grab from the stacked motha fuckas. Now they know me, the homies. Raised by some crazed ass well payed OG's. Ah shit! Pulled up in a benzy, snatch. The wheel as I peel out. Catch a cop's tail. Rock shells hit. Raise a fist so they know to make a hit. Can I flip it? I may get wicked as I rip it. Huh. To get specific: If the shoe fits, then kick it. It's for the gifted. Pump your fist if you wit it. Here's your ticket to see Mr. Wicked rip shit. Now they wanna maime me. (Told ya) All I wanted to be was a soulja. Bang bang boogy it's stick up. Quit now nigga, eat a dick up. I'm representin |
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11. |
| 4:23 | ||||
Little somethin for my godson Elijah and a little girl named Corrine
Verse One: Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice I say the darker the flesh then the deeper the roots I give a holler to my sisters on welfare Tupac cares, if don't nobody else care And uhh, I know they like to beat ya down a lot When you come around the block brothers clown a lot But please don't cry, dry your eyes, never let up Forgive but don't forget, girl keep your head up And when he tells you you ain't nuttin don't believe him And if he can't learn to love you you should leave him Cause sista you don't need him And I ain't tryin to gas ya up, I just call em how I see em You know it makes me unhappy (what's that) When brothas make babies, and leave a young mother to be a pappy And since we all came from a woman Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman I wonder why we take from our women Why we rape our women, do we hate our women? I think it's time to kill for our women Time to heal our women, be real to our women And if we don't we'll have a race of babies That will hate the ladies, that make the babies And since a man can't make one He has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one So will the real men get up I know you're fed up ladies, but keep your head up Chorus Ooooh child things are gonna get easier Ooooh child things are gonna get brighter Ooooh child things are gonna get easier Ooooh child things are gonna get brighter Verse Two: Aiyyo, I remember Marvin Gaye, used to sing ta me He had me feelin like black was tha thing to be And suddenly tha ghetto didn't seem so tough And though we had it rough, we always had enough I huffed and puffed about my curfew and broke the rules Ran with the local crew, and had a smoke or two And I realize momma really paid the price She nearly gave her life, to raise me right And all I had ta give her was my pipe dream Of how I'd rock the mic, and make it to tha bright screen I'm tryin to make a dollar out of fifteen cents It's hard to be legit and still pay tha rent And in the end it seems I'm headin for tha pen I try and find my friends, but they're blowin in the wind Last night my buddy lost his whole family It's gonna take the man in me to conquer this insanity It seems tha rain'll never let up I try to keep my head up, and still keep from gettin wet up You know it's funny when it rains and pours They got money for wars, but can't feed the poor They say there ain't no hope for the youth and the truth is there ain't no hope for tha future And then they wonder why we crazy I blame my mother, for turning my brother into a crack baby We ain't meant to survive, cause it's a setup And even though you're fed up Huh, ya got to keep your head up Chorus Verse Three: And uhh To all the ladies havin babies on they own I know it's kinda rough and you're feelin all alone Daddy's long gone and he left you by ya lonesome Thank the Lord for my kids, even if nobody else want em Cause I think we can make it, in fact, I'm sure And if you fall, stand tall and comeback for more Cause ain't nuttin worse than when your son wants to kno why his daddy don't love him no mo' You can't complain you was dealt this hell of a hand without a man, feelin helpless Because there's too many things for you to deal with Dying inside, but outside you're looking fearless While tears, is rollin down your cheeks Ya steady hopin things don't all down this week Cause if it did, you couldn't take it, and don't blame me I was given this world I didn't make it And now my son's getten older and older and cold From havin the world on his shoulders While the rich kids is drivin Benz I'm still tryin to hold on to survivin friends And it's crazy, it seems it'll never let up, but please... you got to keep your head up |
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12. |
| 5:56 | ||||
['Pac speaking]
Yo 'Law! Is it cool if a nigga just get fucked up for this one? Yeah! Mr. Fuck-a-Cop is BACK.. and I still don't give a fuck, yaknahmsayin? Puffin on this indo.. in the studio with my partners out here Pacific Heights in the house, know what I mean [2Pac] I was framed, so don't make the same mistake, nigga You gotta learn how to shake the snakes, nigga Cause the police love to break a nigga Send em upstate cause they straight-up hate the niggaz So what I do is get a crew of zoo niggaz Straight fools into rules and do niggaz And one-time had enough of me I'm still raw so the law can't fuck with me They wanna send me to the pen, punk picture that I stay strapped motherfuckers better get your gat It ain't easy bein me I can't take it Life as a celebrity ain't everything they make it And ever since the movies, these hoes try to do me If they can't screw me, they find a way to sue me Now can you picture me coolin, at a night club? Nothin but love, but motherfuckers wanna mean mug Since I wear a lot of gold, they plot Don't know what I got, and get shot with the hot ones And aww yeah, I wanna feel guilty but you punk motherfuckers tried to milk me You'll get smacked behind the hill with my phone on my pager It's beepin while I cut you with my razor I'm not violent, I'm petrified and nervous I got no mercy for these niggaz tryin to serve us But if you catch me outta pocket, then I'm got You love to shoot a nigga but you scared to pop a cop Now drop it Chorus: 2Pac Strictly for my - strictly for my - strictly for my niggaz Strictly for my - strictly for my - strictly for my niggaz Strictly for my - strictly for my - strictly for my niggaz Strictly for my niggaz makin G's [2Pac] Reflected and disrespected, plus I'm rejected You're just another rapper, who swears he's makin records That's what they said - whenever I would walk by I never tripped though - always kept my head up high Eventually, I knew that I would find my way After the darkest night, always comes a brighter day And some would say, that turned away is all you'll get I just said, 'bet,' and never let 'em see me sweat Cause in the end, I knew that I would have it all while non-believers, were prayin for my downfall And some would call, and tell me that they wish me well but in my heart, I'm knowin that they wish me hell Yo get a real job, rappin doesn't pay the rent I hate the studio cause that's where all my money went Never surrender, it's all about the faith you've got Don't ever stop, just push it til you hit the top And if you drop, at least you know you gave your all Be true to you, and that way you can never fall But beware, these backstabbers ain't no joke Just like a rope, they hang on you until you're broke And when you're broke, they move onto the next dope And there you are, can't even pay your car, nope And when you reminisce, thinkin how you got dissed remember how it felt, and then remember this Be true to you, believe that there's no one bigger Cause they can all suck dick - it's strictly for my niggaz Chorus [2Pac] (This is) This is for the critics if you live up Pick up my shit or I'll be back doin stickups I better see five stars next to my picture If not, Tupac will cop the glock and come knockin to getcha I told you once motherfucker I'm a nut Play me like a butt and you'll be bleedin when you're fucked Niggaz know what's up but they be tryin to hold me down I'm comin outta Oaktown, bitch fuck around And it ain't where you from that makes you hardcore Nigga it's the way you throw them thangs in the war And to the marks that be talkin all that shit Screamin out the next nigga's name like a bitch And the niggaz that I ran into recently The motherfuckers at the club that pulled the piece on me You little bitches shoulda pulled the fuckin trigga Now you live in fear of a heartless-ass nigga Mr. Troublesome; niggaz tried to play me with the gat but like Terminator nigga, I'll be back Yeah! And I'll be back with a fuckin army You tried to harm me -- ruh-ring the alarm G! Cause most motherfuckers love to act up without they backup, when they get jacked up they crack up It's strictly for my niggaz at the show so they know, not to play me like a ho (ho!!!) Strictly for my... Chorus 3X (continues afterwards, breaking into ad libs) |
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13. |
| 3:27 | ||||
Growing up as an inner city brotha
where every other had a pops and a motha I was tha product of a heated lover Nobody knew how deep it screwed me and since my pops never knew me my family didn't know what ta do with me was I somebody they despise curious look in they eyes as if they wonder if i'm dead or alive poor momma can't control me quit tryin' ta save my soul, I wanna roll with my homies a ticken timebomb can't nobody fade me packin' a 380 and fiendin' for my mercedes suckers scatter but it don't matter i'm a cool shot punks drop from all tha buckshots tha fools got i'm tired of being a nice guy i've been poor all my life, but don't know quite why so they label me a lunatic could care less death or success is what I quest cause i'm fearless now tha streetz R Deathrow Chorus (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') tha streetz R Deathrow (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') tha streetz R Deathrow I just murdered a man, i'm even more stressed wearin' a vest hopein' that their aimin' at my chest much too young to bite tha bullet hand on tha trigga I see my life before my eyes each time I pull it I hope I live to be a man must be part of some big plan to keep a brotha in tha state penn counting pennys over tha years I'd done stacked many proven wrong those who swore i'd wouldn't live till twenty now they gotta cope since it's tha only thing I know it's difficult to let it go i'm startin' to loose my hair cause I worry hustlin' to keep from gettin' buried but now I gotta move away now cause these suckers wanna spray where I lay down my homie lost his family and snapped shot up half tha block to bring them back tha streetz R Deathrow Chorus (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') tha streetz R Deathrow (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') tha streetz R Deathrow (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') tha streetz R Deathrow (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') (like it ain't nothin') i'm dangerous when drunk I only drink beer gin makes me sin unable to think clear heneesee, makes me think my enemy is getting close BOOM BOOM BOOM got me shooting at a ghost some call me crazy but this is what you gave me amongst tha babies, who raised up from tha slavery I sport a vest and hit tha sess to kill tha stress moved out west and I invest in all tha best those who test will find a bullet in they chest put ta rest by a brotha who was hopeless grow up broke on tha rope of insanity how many pistols smoking coming from a broken family i'm sick of being tired sick of tha sirens, body bags, and tha gun firing tell bush to push tha button cause i'm fed tired of hearin' these voices in my head tha streetz R Deathrow Chorus (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') tha streetz R Deathrow (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') tha streetz R Deathrow (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') tha streetz R Deathrow (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') tha streetz R Deathrow (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') this goes out to my partners in tha Live Squad (like it ain't nothin') and all my homies out there involved in that 187 watch your back... (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') There got to be a better way... (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') There's too many of us in tha cemetary (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') I love it when they fear me come on, what we gonna do now (cause i'll beat you down, like it ain't nothin') I love it when they fear me tha streetz R Deathrow |
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14. |
| 4:19 | ||||
Aw yeah, I get around
Still clown with the Underground, when we come around Stronger than ever (Tupac) Back to get wreck All respect to those who break their neck to keep their hoes in check Cause oh they sweat a brother majorly And I don't know why, your girl keeps paging me She tell me that she needs me, cries when she leaves me And every time she sees me, she squeeze me, lady take it easy! Hate to sound sleazy, but tease me, I don't want it if it's that easy Ayo bust it, baby got a problem saying bye bye Just another hazard of a fly guy You ask why, don't matter, my pockets got fatter Now everybody's looking for the latter And ain't no need in being greedy If you wanna see me dial the beeper number baby when you need me And I'll be there in a jiffy Don't be picky, just be happy with this quickie But when you learn, you can't tie me down Baby doll, check it out, I get around What you mean you don't know? I get around The Underground just don't stop for hoes, I get around Still down with the Underground, I get around Yeah, ayo Shock, let them hoes know (Shock G) Now you can tell from my everday fits, I ain't rich So cease and desist with them tricks (tricks) I'm just another black man caught up in the mix (mix) Trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents (A dime and a nickel) Just cause I'm a freak don't mean that we could hit the sheets Baby I can see, that you don't recognize me I'm Shock G, the one who put the satin on your panties Never knew a hooker that could share me, I get around (Money B) What's up love, how you doing? (All right) Well I've been hanging sanging, trying to do my thang Oh, you heard that I was banging Your home girl you went to school with, that's cool But did she tell you about her sister and your cousin? Thought I wasn't See, weekends were made for Michelob But it's a Monday, my day, so just let me hit it, yo And don't mistake my statement for a clown We can keep in the down low long as you know, that I get around (Tupac) 2Pacalypse now don't stop for hoes, I get around Why I ain't call you? Ha ha, please Finger tips on the hips as I dip, gotta get a tight grip, don't slip Loose lips sink ships, it's a trip I love the way she licks her lips, see me jocking Put a little twist in her hips cause I'm watching Conversations on the phone til the break of dawn Now we all alone, why the lights on? Turn 'em off, time to set it off, get you wet and soft Something's on your mind, let it off You don't know me, you just met me, you won't let me Well if I couldn't have it (silly rabbit) why you sweating me? It's a lot of real G's doing time Cause a groupy bit the truth and told a lie You picked the wrong guy baby if you're too fly You need to hit the door, search for a new guy Cause I only got one night in town Break out or be clown, baby doll are you down? I get around (Shock G) Round and round, round we go (Repeat 8x) |
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15. |
| 5:26 | ||||
Daddy's home...
(2Pac) Heh, so?? You say that like that means somethin to me You've been gone a mighty long motherfuckin time for you to be comin home talkin that "daddy's home" shit (nigga) We been gettin along fine just without you Me, my brother, and my mother So if you don't mind, you can step the FUCK off, POPS.. fuck you! (2Pac) Had to play catch by myself, what a sorry sight A pitiful plight, so I pray for a starry night Please send me a pops before puberty the things I wouldn't do to see a piece of family unity Moms always work, I barely see her I'm startin to get worried without a pops I'll grow to be her It's a wonder they don't understand kids today so when I pray, I pray I'll never grow to be that way And I hope that he answers me I heard God don't like ugly well take a look at my family A different father every weekend Before we get to meet him they break up before the week ends I'm gettin sick of all the friendships As soon as we kick it he done split and the whole shit ends quick How can I be a man if there's no role model? Strivin to save my soul I stay cold drinkin a forty bottle I'm so sorry... (Chorus) I'm so sorry for all this time (I'm so sorry) for all this time for all this time (don't lie) I'm so sorry for all this time (so, sorry) for all this time for all this time, so sorry baby! (Wycked) Moms had to entertain many men Didn't wanna do it but it's time to pay the rent again I'm gettin a bit older and I'm startin to be a bother Moms can't stand me cause I'm lookin like my father Should I stay or run away, tell me the answer Moms ignores me and avoids me like cancer Grow up rough and it's hard to understand stuff Moms was tough cause his poppa wasn't man enough Couldn't stand up to his own responsibilities Instead of takin care of me, he'd rather live lavishly That's why I'll never be a father; unless you got the time it's a crime don't even bother (That's when I started hatin the phony smiles Said I was an only child) Look at mama's lonely smile It's hard for a son to see his mother cry She only loves you, but has to fuck with these other guys I'm so sorry... (Chorus) I'm so sorry for all this time for all this time for all this time I'm so sorry for all this time for all this time (so sorry) for all this time, so sorry baby! (2Pac) Man child in the promised land couldn't afford many heroes Moms was the only one there my pops was a no-show And ohh -I guess ya didn't know that I would grow to be so strong Lookin kinda pale, was it the ale oh pops was wrong Where was the money that you said, you would send me talked on the phone and you sounded so friendly Ask about school and my welfare but it's clear, you ain't sincere hey who the hell cares You think I'm blind but this time I see you comin, Jack You grabbed your coat, left us broke, now ain't no runnin back Ask about my moms like you loved her from the start Left her in the dark, she fell apart from a broken heart So don't even start with that "wanna be your father" shit Don't even bother with your dollars I don't need it I'll bury moms like you left me all alone G Now that that I finally found you, stay the Fuck away from me You're so sorry.. (Chorus) I'm so sorry (so sorry) for all this time (so, so sorry) for all this time (I'm so so sorry) for all this time (fuck that!) I'm so sorry for all this time (no) for all this time (so sorry) for all this time, so sorry baby! (Tupac - impersonating his father) I never meant to leave but I was wanted Crossed too many people every house I'd touch was haunted Had to watch the strangers every brother was in danger If I was to keep you breathin, had to be out of range-a Had to move, one to lost my name and pick the number Made me watch my back I had no happy home to run to Maybe it's my fault for being a father livin fast But livin slow, mean half the dough, and you won't get no ass Hindsight shows me it was wrong all along I wanted to make some dough so you would grow to be so strong It took a little longer than I thought I slipped, got caught, and sent to jail by the courts Now I'm doin time and I wish you'd understand all I ever wanted was for you to be a man and grow to be the type you was meant to be Keep the war fightin by the writings that you sent to me I'm so sorry... (Chorus w/ variations til end |
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16. |
| 5:14 | ||||
Yeah hehehahaha, we goin platinum nigga! Plaahahatinum.
(Stretch) Yeah, you got the Live Squad in this motherfucker We got my nigga Treach from Naughty by Nature in this motherfucker My nigga Apache up in this motherfucker (Verse One: 2Pac) My Mossberg goes boom, gimme room, can I catch it Talkin quick and then I vic just tryin to keep from gettin blasted I had enough I put a hit upon them bastards Boo-yaa! Turned a snitch into a casket Now they after me, prowling for a niggaz bucks Time to see, who's the G, with the bigger nuts Buck buck, big up and livin reckless Niggaz with a death wish step in with a Tec and I'll wet this Yeah this shit is hyper Two to one I'm writing representing and I'm striking like a viper Huh, I got my mind made up, I got my nine Ring the alarm, and strong arm must run Some niggaz need to feel me with a passion I'm old fashioned, run up on me nigga and get blasted With five deadly venomz (Stretch) Yeah 'Pac, fuck that, still hittin em up with that old deadly shit. Aiyyo Treach where you at? Step up and hit they ass up with the wickedness. (Verse Two: Treach) We come to hit you with a sock full of Brooklyn to the Onyx of your nose, punk is funky like skunk blunts Stunk like funk cunt I come to take you on a war rough and rugged route And if another doubts I blow your fuckin mother out And that's the street scarred style I shout I'm-de-MC-wit-de-nasty-mouf, and kick the bitch out Sue me? I pay the lawyer for ya oh boy yeah Plus my style's ten to twenty fuckin pounds more I take you quicker than a picture of a punk ya pickin shit pickin pockets with a razor stoppin Russian rockets Not shoplift, I'm liftin shop Once you sound hot, cause if you ain't a perfect ten my sign is stop! It's twenty mother-crooked-fuckin styles in em Like women I did em I'm in for deadly ready venom (Verse Three: Majesty of Live Squad) Yeah, as I take a puff I get rough, Big Maj To put it on, can't none come tougher see I'm down with the sound of the Squad hard, boom! Breakin em down, I make em see their doom Coming straight from the dome where I roam it's a job to rob and steal and runnin from the coppers Who hold a, boulder, turn the gun controller Started from a punk now to be a high roller Youngest, reckless, crazy, disaster Mac-11 blaster, and I run faster Than a lot of cops I can't be stopped till my head gets popped A lot of fuckin bodies will drop It's a disaster, I'm coming for the blood splatter I make you scatter, leavin trails of brains and bladders Blowin em out the frame with no shame Game tight, drop a body then get out of sight Count my loot after I shoot, leave my kicks up and it's something I don't wanna do, somethin that I never did I try to get him, I think I hit em, I lit him He's out! A poison, a deadly venom (Stretch) Yeah Maj, fuck that! You know how we do. KnowhatI'msayin? Squad in effect, YG'z in effect. Now you know a nigga like me gotta represent (Verse Four: Stretch of Live Squad) Once again, back to rip shit, quick on the flip tip The psycho, represent the real to take the mic flow Deadly, rock a head G, check the melody Niggaz can't touch me when I wreckin G you better flee Cause I'm gifted with a jab and a forty-four Mag So nigga flip or take a trip in a body bag Uhh, boom you slipped up, now you're zipped up Yeah one more statistic, fronted and got ripped up No joke, you be yolk, no matter how it sound We're taking over eight niggaz back to the stomping grounds Line em up single file, dome runnin in em A nigga hit em with the venom, the fourth deadly venom (Stretch) Nigga, yaknowhatI'msayin? Fuck that! I told you, we takin over, yo 'Pac. (Verse Five: 2Pac) Five deadly venomz verse five be the livest Strugglin and strive, keep a nine in my waistline Take mine, you better bury me, G Punk ass niggaz don't even worry me, see I got a glock that say 'Pac run the block Fuck the cops cause my gauge gets me... PAID As I sit and reminesce about the old days Hugging on my AK, fuck getting played, hey I say niggaz need to get they mind right Until they do I pop a clip and grip my nine tight Now it's on everday could be my last day That's why I blast on they ass as I past let the glass spray First you had a mouth full of fronts Now you're mouth's full of chunks, Pac's out puffin blunts Deadly venomz (Stretch) Hahaha, yeah pass that shit over here. Apache bout to clean shit up. (Verse Six: Apache) Throw up your middle finger! Start the track for the maniac Only thing I'm givin out is black donuts and dirty backs Let me tell how you rough I get I pop shit behind your back get in your face and pop the same shit You can't get in because my gate's bigger I'ma snake nigga My act guards me so hard I pull the fuckin trigger I'm a section to clinch your porch is like a pinch Test a rhyme I'll knock your hairline back an inch Fuckin up pooh-butts, cut em like cold cuts Choke em with my boot lace, then leave em hangin like old nuts Clip up and move out, time to get em That's the results of fuckin with the fifth venom in denim (Stretch) Yeah, yaknowhatI'msayin? Five motherfuckin deadly venomz, in effect for ninety-three ninety-four ninety-five all that other shit. We takin this motherfucker over this larger hit. YaknowhatI'msayin? Follow us, come along. YaknowhatI'msayin? We takin this motherfucker over. TRUST. We out. |