Lyrics:
man… wanna dedicate this song to a
Few of my loved ones that went on to Heaven
Big Herk magic and Chastity Johnson
Nate Dogg 2Pac
And if you’ve every
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
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
corner riding with him ha Ha
All they see is black venom
Then my silhouette
Just watch the fear reappear in they
Eyes when I hit the set
Oh no, 2Pac wit'
mieć ciuchy z Ameryki (łoj)
Tak było minęło nie ma co kleić głupa
Rapowy przemysł odzieżowy z Ameryki upadł
Nie żyje 2Pac a Nas pogrzebał rap
O tym
c'mon)
We got a booth at this McDonalds at a pit stop
He told me he started a 2Pac Party (Is 2Pac allowed?)
Beauty Dior, Kendra, Jade, and some other
they see me as 2Pac the don
And this bitch with 2 Glocks, I'm wrong
The homie still gon' roll and standin' with your biggest G
You still gon' fold, I
my adversaries they don't understand what we go through
To become a man, we sheddin tattoed tears
Chorus: 2Pac + Young Noble
I said many times
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
Latifah, the Queen of the flavor
And nothing weaker behind is watching, kick her
The Digital Under-the-Underground, rocks with Shock and 2PAC
With Money
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
my nigga seeing 6 figures
Black bottles popping when I'm on the turf
Two private Jets what this nigga's worth
Atlanta, Miami, Rosé
We like 2Pac
the pen like my cousin Bud
Lunatic Insane, and my partner T-Love
Big Tom, Ray Ray, Killa Cuddy, Mac Dre
Cleek, Jamal, Jinx and Bluebonic, man
[ 2Pac ]
Now
shots got the game hot
They even flipped on 2PAC
Snoop Doggy Dogg put the West Coast in gear
Dr Dre, NWA, Eazy E's in here
I want to tell
begging me
You know what you should've capped like 2pac with a glock
They're deadly, better not upset my thug mentality sucker
You know you done fucked
On yo' block you prolly bred a Fat Pat or 2Pac
Or Big Pun, or B.I., ya homeboys from knee, high
And even when it was storming outside, that nigga'd be by
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
or the
Legs of a hoochie
And that's off top like a toupee, I'm 2Pac
Coming back for doomsday, spitting at cops
Go and cop my album
Get high to it, pop some
shit hook up
Though how that shit hook up?
Can I get some?
I love that ghetto shit (That ghetto shit)
I love that 2Pac shit (2Pac shit)
I'm that nigga
like to
Give a shout out to all
The tre whizz kids out there
Aunt Micky in the house
And I'm chilling up in the
Studio with 2Pac and
Cocoa G and uh
on girlfriend, I'm just messing wit' ya
You know I never play you
Out like a velcro mustache
Especially when you're giving up 'nough ass
And it don't stop on 2Pac
stick-ups
I better see five stars next to my picture
If not, 2Pac will cop the Glock and
Come knockin' to getcha
I told you once, motherfucker, I'm a nut
Play
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
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