Lyrics:
Picture Me Rollin'
Mane I bet y'all brothers hatin
I'm on my grind
cnd I ain't worried bout no hater
I see the eyes on me
cll Eyes on Me
Like 2Pac
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?
doubt me
I'm gettin' flammy on this 2Pac jammy
Yo, sittin' and pissin' on a bitch ass panty
Yeah, like it's magic we comin'
On that ass massive
Better tap
steady on me, so they thuggin like they 2pac
Til that thuggin' shit have you like 2pac
I'm on overload, I overdose with over flows
Keep the champagne
This stupid nigga got rhymes like
You told Passwurdz that 2Pac was only
Known for being well paid
But the only thing that he
Was really known for
Was for
and Wesson in this mothafucka
Right now Greg Nice in this mothafucka
Right now LS in this mothafucka
Right now Baby Jesus And The All Star's
Right now 2Pac
out some Hen
This my dedication, my nigga 2Pac
And you can best believe -
That it won't stop, uh
You should've known that I'd be coming back
Especially
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
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
You ain't gotta ask if she digg me, of course she did I'm witty
I'm a product of my city, that 2Pac and that Biggie
My jewels pop with that pretty
and sporty
Can't wait to see your grill when you turn 40
Far from a sex symbol and you can't pronounciate
But 2Pac passed, so they signed it anyway
Stretch
Put some honey and ginger in your hot water
Let it steep for 10 minutes and then you gotta
Put som 2pac on the boombox
Biggie with the ''who shot ya''
pocket
You wonder why
My shits droop
You wonder why
My pack boof
I'm spittin Fire
In the booth
They let a demon
On the loose
I'm 2pac wit the juice
Not
Gotta be a savage and get my grits.
Ready for funk nigga, who want drama?
Collecting mail just like 2Pac momma.
Cress sider, romp rider, might of robed
bunter Hund, im Untergrund vernetzt wie U-Bahn-Strecken
Der kann fresh wie 2Pac rappen
Doch kommt halt leider nur schwer in die Gänge
So wie fette
Untergrund vernetzt wie U-Bahn-Strecken
Der kann fresh wie 2Pac rappen
Doch kommt halt leider nur schwer in die Gänge
So wie fette Stewardessen
Ja sicher,
Drunk of the goose thinkin that I'm 2Pac
Getting caught with a few thoughts
'Cause I'm too lost
I'm about to go off
The speakers can't even handle me
ladies
BIG or Small, I put it in your Bush, Babees
MC's don't Breed cause we keep a 2Pac
G like Craig and in your ear like Mack
So don't be an Outkast,
Don't know why they hate
I swear I can't relate
Everybody fake
Ain't nobody safe
Say it to my face
Better pump yo brakes
Can you match the pace
everybody tryin' to get that cake
But ain't nobody tryin' to pump they brakes like
What's goin' on
Tell me how did we get this way
In this impoverished state,
i'm not gonna stop
I'm going all out
Got no brakes
This all that I got
I got one shot
No pump fake
This shit gonna drop
Spent many nights at the bottom
Heyy-yo, heyy-yo, we speedballin..
Livin by the grace of God
At the pace of the Devil life is hard, we speedballin
With no time to waste
brakes
Pyb, py, py, pyb pump yo brakes
Pyb, py, py, pyb
Man why you niggas over there looking at me?
Why don't you mind y'all own?
What the hell you doing
push your pedal, pump your brake
Better untwist your face
Spoken word, mixed with school, mixed with crunk
This should hit you, get you pump, if it
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