Lyrics:
and Mercedes niggaz (Forty-two)
Them rida niggaz, (Forty-three)
Them 'money on my mind' niggaz (Forty-four)
Violate-mine-and-I'ma-gon'-pop-you-wit'-this-nine
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
jack in my lab, don't wanna see 2Pac
Got two spots, a new lot, flooded with rocks
Shoot-outs makin' me hot, crooked cops Bad Tony and the ball drop
In
jack in my lab, don't wanna see 2Pac
Got two spots, a new lot, flooded with rocks
Shoot-outs makin' me hot, crooked cops Bad Tony and the ball drop
In
on an LP
Take me to ER ASAP for an IV
Motherfuck JLB, they don't support no hip hop
They say that's where it ends, the closest they gon' come is 2Pac
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
Vamoose like 2pac
Suicidal tendencies, down to white Hennessy
Look in the book, I'm the definition of menace b
Chokin' niggas out for no reason, it's
Governmently engineered like E Bola for this rap garage sale
by this industry I'm trying not to get fucked like 2Pac in jail
You can hate me, but await me like
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
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.
who got the gangsta shit poppin
N.W.A, Too Short, Spice 1, And 2Pac
And fuck you niggaz rappin wack shit, you dodgin the game
I keep two little twin
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
my vision
Right on time with mine thanks to them old Doc prescriptions
West side flourishin' again, this what 2Pac envisioned
Obama freein' lifers
the crack spot with a laptop
Bumpin' that Biggie Smalls and 2Pac
French braid and weed heads
Where'd all these niggas come from with these dreads?
like 2pac
I’m moving like diddy
You know shit Don’t Stop
Nigga we up them glocks like a Wheelie
100 band jugg
Nigga whipping in the kitchen
Glock with
a warzone
Bouncers actin' like cops in the club
Mother fuck around and get dropped in the club
They don't play enough 2Pac in the club
The industry done made
(Yeah)
Niggas wanna hit me like I'm 2Pac (Yeah)
Bad bitch fuck me in my Gucci tube socks (Yeah)
'Member when I spent my re-up on a oowop, whoa
Your
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
shit that got Big and 2Pac killed (it's Gucci)
Haha
Okay
For the record, this is not a diss record
It's just the truth
It's Gucci, the livin'
shit that got Big and 2Pac killed (it's Gucci)
Haha
Okay
For the record, this is not a diss record
It's just the truth
It's Gucci, the livin'
a beach, so you rot in the wave
Man, I'm so glad that Guwop out
And rap fans still give a fuck what 2Pac 'bout
I'm right here, I don't give a fuck who hop
motherfucking trill shit that
I be talking 'bout
Bandanna tied like 2Pac to the side, nigga
It's that A$AP life
It's that trill wave right here, man
Get your
through traffic with 2Pac blastin'
With a bitch that's irritatin' from all these questions she askin'
Like what bitches I fucked, when, how and where
You
direction that left me in true shock
Like when 2Pac got shot
The whammy
I drop my secrete scripts of the uncanny
Broadcastin' live and direct throughout
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