Lyrics:
(whoa)
I guess I'm just here for your amusement (yeah)
You've seen it all before, guys know how the story goes
It's like 2Pac never died, sit back,
make it moonwalk
White glove money stuffed in my tube socks
Top down thug life, 2Pac
I'mma boss, I can get ya whole crew chopped
Teflon Don
granny house with vanilla wafers
This the remedy, the seperation
2Pac of my generation
Blue pill in the fuckin' Matrix
Red rose in the gray pavement
it, street game Fugazi
I'm elevated to the top of this shit
Done fucked around and put me and 2Pac on the bitch
And you can tell 'em "Thug Life" was
to a new house on a new hill
And choose a new spot, if niggas wanted you shot
I ain't a thug, how much 2Pac in you you got?
I ain't no bitch, neither
and 2Pac and they bark like this
As I spark my splif
I see the coroner puttin' chalk around the snitch
We be shootin' like free throws, flyin' them
wrote the block off, I talk that shit
Size 12 Bo Jacksons cause I walk that shit
There on Compton Blvd that's where I walk my pits
Biggie and 2Pac
like RIP
I dropped 2Pac Back and did it BIG
America's most wanted like Chi Ali
I'm too young to be doing this
They need to see ID
Ross said I'm hot, Tip
like RIP
I dropped 2Pac Back and did it BIG
America's most wanted like Chi Ali
I'm too young to be doing this
They need to see ID
Ross said I'm hot, Tip
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,
I better see five stars next to my picture
If not, 2Pac will cock the Glock and come knockin' to getcha
I told you once, motherfucker, I'm a nut
we had 2Pac
An old boom box, chilling in our tube socks
And plus Dre taught us how to roll a 64
And Snoop Dogg taught us how
To roll a sticky dro
So if
Rowdy)
Wish Nipsey was alive and they killed 6ix9ine
Nip was like Malcolm X and 2Pac combined
He probably kickin' it with Martin Luther King up in
that shit, I'll knock you out
A nigga be pickin' you up off of the ground for thinkin' you 2Pac
And shawty give me neck till I pass out
And she just
passion
It'll blow your mind hey throw up your legs
Wrap your shit around my back
It's a west side bang fucking
Hoes around the map
? get down with 2Pac
Mr. Did her wrong
Mr. Sing a song
Hit a bong, Mr. Cheech and Chong
Mr. In my zone
Mr. 2Pac Herringbone, on my collar bone
Heat is on, mister
Mr.
on Channel 7 he do beats for 2Pac
Now coming out the spring from Heaven
Ya know my piece is, hotter than grease is
With no wrong way to eat
Ya face like
probably throw a couple bags at ya
In my 2Pac voice, I ain't mad at ya
Take the wheel, see if you can drive while I eat it
My fitted flew off, but I don't
jabs at em
Hit Rodeo, probably throw a couple bags at ya
In my 2Pac voice - I ain't mad at ya
Take the wheel, see if you can drive while I eat it
me to give a nigger-y twenty-one gun salute
That's seven shots for 2pac
Seven for Biggie Smalls
Seven for Freaky Tah up in your neighborhood malls
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
know that doo-doo
Ipod blastin', 2pac yeah hit em up
Chow down, spit em up
Black bag, get em up
Call the chef tonight, were having sinners for dinner
the Neptune sound
Okay, hot Hov', too hot to hold
Ladies love me long time like 2Pac sold
Only way to roll, Jigga and two ladies
I'm too cold, Motorola, two
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