Lyrics:
[Raekwon the Chef]
So yo yo all I want to do is just tell them cats
On the real, keep your game high man, keep it up
Word up, never stop
[Raekwon the Chef]
So yo yo all I want to do is just tell them cats
On the real, keep your game high man, keep it up
Word up, never stop
red dot
Compact Nina and it got that green dot
Mini stick in the kitchen by that crack pot
Trapping on Westwood, I feel like I'm 2Pac
Powered up
a ratchet, what's good?
It happens in Compton, happens in Queens, happened to Big L
Happened to Chinx and 2Pac in that passenger's seat
Sometimes it's
congratulations 'cause you built somethin'
You takin' a lot of boxin' lessons, but you still pussy
I see right through you niggas just like 2Pac hologram
Ain't
but a buckshot, chck-pow!
Motherfuck your life, pussy blood clot
Ain't never been no rapper this cold since 2Pac was froze
And thawed out for spot
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
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
I've been thinkin'
Now I'm ridin' through traffic with 2Pac blastin'
With a bitch that's irritatin' from all these questions she askin'
Like what
falling (We good, we good, falling)
We divided (Why you say that? nah this just how I look, divided, I'm good, I'm good)
Falling
As the late 2Pac would put
and putting lean in their cup
They're also taught to do anything to get the guap
And live the thug life and pretend to be like 2Pac
Am I the only one who
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
be hitting switches
Calling 2Pac daddy
It ain't my fault that she's sprung on me
And ain't it fun I make her cum
Put her tongue on me
That's
Only for my sistas, for my riders
Let me see you throw your hands up
Hahaha i quit, you ass didn't
We up outta here
2Pac and Storm (That's right)
Outlaw
on the scene do nothing
We do damage and make it mean something
If you feel this shit
Put a smile on your face
Put your ass on the floor
And burn down this
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
featuring Master P Silkk the Shocker
(Master P)
Like 2Pac said only God can judge me
But I think only black Jesus can help me
solidified spot
Only wavy-ass beats you can find me on
I can make this shit sound like an R&B song
I can make it 2Pac and some Jon B. on
Come on, yeah,
I'm feeling like I can't stop
Baby where we gone go
Up until the moon top
Up until the rooftop
Chilling bumping 2Pac
Pop that Coup top
Because it's cool
Dogg Pound, LA zuu
Shit ain't even real no more
(Ain't nothing stop, don't stop
That's for damn sure)
Holla at my homie Pac and shit
(I heard 2Pac fucked
cause my nuts is bigger
Strapped with a tec 9 a mac 10 and 2 glocks
Dumpin' niggas in ditches cause I'm a thug like 2Pac
I'm kickin' it in Cali but
You're round in my 500
but I commence to shake you piggies while I'm gettin' blunted
My nigga 2PAC died and now you hoes is hunted
I give a fuck,
the same, you gotta dream they gon kill it now
Man, excuse my 2pac, if I gotta use that, I'ma use my 2pac
It's a mind state to make you a aware nigga, think
growing like little lion zombie, seeing my self over notorious Bad than 2PAC
Arrangeing my pack to the world.
Bringing devastation upon you fake Niggas
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