Lyrics:
Mister, that Mister, Bobby Bands
Mr. Long, Mr. Get-Her-Wrong, Mr. Sing-A-Song
Hit the bong, Mr. Cheech and Chong, Mr. In-My-Zone
Mr. 2Pac Herringbone,
Come with me
Hail Mary shout to 2pac G
It's a Wavyy lifestyle
Do you wanna roll n fly
La-da-da-da da-da-da-da
Moshin' to nostalgic rock shit, I'm Brock
Bitch
Semi-automatic might blast like Team Rocket
Wait, and tell 'em I'm mixing that
Slayer with that 2Pac
Back from the dead eazy-E, 2016
With my mothafuckin' nigga DJ Chop
With the homie 2Pac back up, Back up
Motherfuckers are 2 Hot
Now, ever since
so you put me on Big and 2Pac
'Fore we came a long way, L.A. With B and Jay
Or flyin' to Coachella playing Spades on PJ's
Gimme three days, my
a bath in it
Get ass in it and I gotta stash in it
Smoke hash in it, blueberry chocolate tah
Smokin chronic make me see shit, like 2Pac alive
Bandana
fear, sittin around watchin muthafuckas die
The faces of death
Who coulda predicted 2pac would be next?
Read ghetto text: if you live by the sword
Man, last time 2Pac came to me in a dream
I was living in Wichita, Kansas
Once I moved to LA
I think there was so many things
Being thrown at me
Acquired his knowledge from the streets
Makaveli, 2Pac Shakur
Was the rose that grew from concrete
America's most complete artist, regardless
One
you mothafuckers want Shady)
The lost begotten seed of 2Pac (if Pac was still here now)
To lead this industry into the ways of the man (he would never
Thug Life! Comin' straight out the West Coast
Real Boy Killaz! 2Pac with the Assassin
And we ridin' for the West Side!
Bad boy, bad boy, what you
in it, blueberry chocolate tah
*** chronic make me see ***, like 2Pac alive
Bandanna knotted in the front like 2Pac alive
Walkin' out the courthouse,
Schlachtbetriebe
La familia
Plattenfirmen wollen meine CD pressen, wir erpressen Plattenfirmen
Du fährst die Plastikschiene wie Flachbildschirme
Ami-rap in
2Pac on stage
But, fuck a dream if it's not gon' pay
You feel me?
White socks, hat with my Glock on waist
Couldn't tell me I was not O'Shea
Posted
only person I trust is God, trust no one, like 2Pac he said)
He said trust nobody
I seen my homeboy do me kinda wrong
That's why you never hear Lil
hip-hop y'all I'm ready to die, uh
Ride to this if you miss 2Pac
Bounce to this if you love Big Poppa
My soldiers, live soldiers, ready to ride
For this
hip-hop y'all I'm ready to die, uh
Ride to this if you miss 2Pac
Bounce to this if you love Big Poppa
My soldiers, live soldiers, ready to ride
For this
sweeper with a K
Nigga, this is 2Pac mixed with the old Guwop
15 years, 30 mil', nigga, who flopped?
One good song, but you ain't got a classic yet
snitch
Hood nigga principles
Abide by it, live by it, die by it, nigga
Even when I'm finga fuckin' hoes
Finga on tha trigga diamonds in my crucifix
Feelin'
dough, never snitch hood nigga principles and
byebye live by and die by nigga
even when im finger fuckin hoes finga on tha trigger
diamonds in ma crucifix
him
Youngin' told me he thuggin' I played some 2Pac for him
Then I gave him some work and got a new block for him
Then they hate when you get it so say
the credit went to Elvis
Know you never knew that, know you think I'm too black
I just think I'm too real, I grew up on 2Pac
You grew up thinkin' that
Me and 2Pac were soldiers
Of the same struggle
You lames could huddle, your team's shook
Y'all feel the wrath of a killer
'cause this is my football
just a nut
No homo, I can do that with my hand, bitch
What? Bitch I think I'm 2Pac
Bitch I think I'm 2Pac
Niggas talk that shit 'til they
Get their ass
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