Lyrics:
Pittsburgh Las Vegas
If gun reform can even save us
In this land the killing is legal
Cause It's not the guns It's the people
End Gun Violence End Gun
"Sons of Rice"
With my best friend "Bobby"
This album is for all of us
And though I'm sounding jolly
My soul is still back home
I'm here only in body
I am
attached
I turned in all my rap chips I'm earning my bachelors
By dating all the models and actresses
I'm learning all the potholes in every single barrio
at me
Thumbs up to the sky hoping God is pleased
But I failed to see, that very gesture was a gun
Blasting my brethren in the name of the Son
Sheesh,
Come stomp in your sandbox, swollen hands cocked back
No knives, no drama, no guns
No disrespectin' your seed or Ma Dukes
I puke rhyme and you laugh,
evil flock to me
Let's go
必要、自分自身のために
でも
By my lone, they throwing them stones then copping pleas
Hell no
(Hell yeah)
(Slimy)
Bad lil bitch she doming
Fuck that shit 'cause I ain't the one
For a punk motherfucker with a badge and a gun
To be beaten on and thrown in jail
We can go toe to toe in
Winfrey, you are the gross national product'
I'll get my guns and ammo, cruise down to LA Ask you for your autograph, and blow you away BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
In today's music news, the ever controversial Tupac Shakur has
Just released another album under the alias Makaveli
Music insiders are running wild
I smell, gun smoke
I smell, gun smoke
I smell, gun smoke
I smell, gun smoke
I smell, gun smoke
I smell, gun smoke
I smell, gun smoke
We up
Nothing on this album is true. Nothing on this album is a lie. Whats my in relationship with money, notoriety, pussy, my mother, my daughter, the mother
at
Violating get you one in your throat
Still dating your heat, but me and my guns elope
When I die burry me with the totes
In case I run into a lil bit
The type to fly buyin a Z-28 IROC
And chop you in your motherfucking face
Your album ain't tight, what in the fuck is you pushing?
You played out just
Got by myself whatchu thank
Okay
Come outta pocket for things
Fasho
Feeling so broke in exchange
Uh huh
Might get some fan I can bang
Uh huh
And words
even if I gotta
Fuck, suck and swallow in the parking lot
Gonzales Park, I'm followed by a married man, a father of three
My titties bounce
Never jump up in-a mi face 'cause I gun
Never judge a book by di cover, dat's wrong
Dis is Fat Joe alongside di Banton
Hey, what about Pun?
Rudeboy,
me a seh (weh y'ah seh?)
Told dem we still roll with the guns
You know, shot by the tons (right away)
See me a seh, you know, badness, we build it
hurt
Some die by the knife
Some die by the gun
Some die by their word
Death by the tip of their tongue
Responsible for their own hurt
La di da di
Don't
We so shallow in the ghetto with crumbs, we settle for none
Stay mellow to the snare and drum, we wear one
I dare not run, son of a gun, to come in
stalker
Words thrillin', so real they're chillin', the hit author
Gettin' louder than a shot gun, you don't want none
Rhyme pays was the name of the album
Suge Shot Me
In today's music news: the ever controversial Tupac Shakur has
Just released another album under the alias Makaveli.
Music insiders are
what pocket I had left, my handkerchief
I'm guilty by affiliation, in many ways gangsta
But let me explain something, a paradox if you may
I threw all my
from a gunshot wound in the U.S.
A million violent gun crimes are committed
By eighteen to twenty year olds
With homicide being the leading cause
ain't nothin' for ya
Two shots, my allabies, I'm with Joe and De La Hoya
Fight on, ran up in the crib and turned the lights on
Yo get this, Mothafucka!
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