Lyrics:
blue Russian with us, semi automatic gun and I dare somebody to make my day
Dirt road cruising, doing sixty to a hundred
Got the stereo cranked,
Lee
Cause fool I gets around
Smoking on indo don't step up
When my guns in hand
I rolls with a strong clan
They calls me the old man
Cause I got some
written
Keep fucking with me and I'll leave you barren
ten racks in twenty minutes hell of a feeling
The funny thing is I ain't cap in a sentence
Put money
x 4
We run away slaves
(Run nigga run)
They say we free then put guns to our head
[Master P]
Now the cops try to arrest me
and how we wrap bricks with petroleum
Clean strips like custodians (uh-huh)
My rap sheet got coke on it, my stash house got broken in
West signed me, I
Resources tell me a number of less fortunate rappers
Have joined together in conspiracy to assassinate the character
Of not only Mr. Shakur but of Death Row
a slave
Working 100 hours a week and do it all for minimum wage
You want me to put a price on an hour of my life
I'm sorry but 13.60 just doesn't seem right
can save it
He borrowed 5 G's two months ago, still ain't pay it
This girl hit me on the cell about his location
I grabbed my gun jumped in
again
'Cause I hit hard like thunder, straight from the under
Ground with the sound that will make Stevie Wonder
Hard, but let me continue
Serving
I'm already damned
I said I'm a bad bad man
Oh lord I'm a bad bad man
You see me coming heading down your road
Gun in my hand and it's got a full load
to gun bust
You know what's up, keep my Drac' tucked ain't no runnin' up
Hundreds in the bag, you know how the Cloccs move
When I see an opp treesh,
I almost drowned in the blood of a saint
Under that bed its like a flood
I was the crazy man, the other had the gun
I could hear them the way a dog
this man this my gun
Then I turned round let off 6 shot and I left him in the mud (In the mud)
I ain't even have to do them like they put on they self
went?
Ringin' the bell, heard a yell but wasn't sure
Dropped my luggage to the ground, put my ear to the door
Slow music, H-Town, no that's down low
down
Tryna beef yo ass a clown, huh
Yeah, on my 20, got like a hundred rounds, huh
Call up swerve, ask some more, like 20 rounds, huh
Put a nigga in the,
license everything in my wallet, lightest boy with the biggest heart
Nigga play your part or parallel park your ego next to me and violence
Next to me is
is y'all familiar with that sound?
A hundred rounds will gun you down, put your bitch ass underground
Now what I want you to know, see I'm a general
Is
k all 100 rounds
Took a knee said fuck my heart burry is in dirty grounds
You gotta watch how you eat when karma come around
Them scars you leaving on ya
me fightin' these 3 Strikes
Showin' up in court fuck what you thought it's three nights
I put the game down first put my niggas up on it
Now we
down the enemies you've killed
Can you survive this war
Will you survive last shot
Who put a gun in your hand
Who made you put a gun to your head
Do
I got them blue funds
Let's talk about racks
They know me by name when I walk into saks
Put my name in a song then it's no coming back
You can't trust
that circulates dust
Twitches and vomits in fits like the damned
Comforts none but the sloth yet we pay
By the hour for the bricklayers view
so I got a new crew
If y'all feel fuck me then fuck y'all to
y'all got guns, we got missiles
Clear whole blocks burn niggas to gristles
[Baby]
concerned with makin babies
Never lookin for work the streets
Raised me for war
Schooled in laws of currency by
The ways of robbery thought
They never stop me
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