Lyrics:
Me and 2Pac were soldiers
Of the same struggle
You lames could huddle, your team's shook
Y'all feel the wrath of a killer
'cause this is my football
the credit went to Elvis
Know you never knew that, know you think I'm too black
I just think I'm too real, I grew up on 2Pac
You grew up thinkin' that
fear, sittin around watchin muthafuckas die
The faces of death
Who coulda predicted 2pac would be next?
Read ghetto text: if you live by the sword
feeling like a muthafuckin'
Boss bangin' 2Pac
High as a muthafuckin' Queensbridge rooftop
Blowing on this purple haze
Feelin' invincible
Sellin' dope, never
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
blessings
2pac said is there a ghetto in heaven, 'cause nowadays kids is getting fucked by their reverend
So many people, you gotta make exceptions 'cause
Game- Im feeling like a muthafuckin boss bangin 2pac
high as a muthafuckin queens bitch rooftop
blowing on this purple haze feeling invincible
sellin
city sweltering hot
Staggerin' drunker than those cops that 2pac shot
I was a crook by the train with that iron thing, concealed
Reachin', soon as I
him
Youngin' told me he thuggin' I played some 2Pac for him
Then I gave him some work and got a new block for him
Then they hate when you get it so say
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
happened to 2Pac and Biggie
You light up your ciggy
Grab a cold beer out the refridgerator, bop your mickey
You was scared in the hired hotel
Dressed
And please get on a diet
Shoebox came with the doowop
One billion and two cops can't find 2Pac
Two shots, that's two grazed in two days
What goes up must come
tube socks spraying from the rooftops
92' props
Banging for my blue tops
It's me and you Ock, Biggie verses 2Pac
And you forgot
I'm the one who let you
here)
Ring a bell and make a nigga late
Like, what it do Bob?
This a warzone, send 'em to the gulag
They was talkin' shit, now they talk to 2Pac
Now
head, have you lookin' like Marbury
2Pac taught me keep a bomb ready
I'm drinkin' light, but my arm heavy
Private jettin', I know the pilot, used to be
That's when the profit is controlled
I seen this before with 2Pac and this is old
Sony recycled Michael with that album and it sold
'Cause fans are really
to mother-in-law
Got the universe movin' in the form of the sea-saw
You killed 2Pac and Biggie, you know they was rollin' wit me
You paid for your stupidity
You
My shit rock like 2Pac or Os on a ghetto stove
My flows will leave 'em weak, you see the rose petals blow
Gun smoke settles slow when I blow the cold
it out that mud shit
Niggas gay they drop the soap they on they sus shit
I'm like 2Pac with the Juice, I'm on my thug shit
Sippin' codeine in my
turtle shit
Bolt like Usain, who game to get got
I mastered the Shaolin styles of BIG and 2Pac
Sweet and sour chicken while my
Partner workin' two woks
from the gutter, my father's a drugger
The block is my mother, 2Pac got it on lock in my suburb
I got dope double-wrapped up in bubble wrap on top
a nigga late
Like, what it do, Bob?
This a warzone, send 'em to the gulag
They was talkin' shit, now they talk to 2Pac
Now they JFK with the roof off
Like
far from the binoculars
So, that smart money finna get that heat out the car
Yo, I'm K-Dot Lamar meets 2Pac Shakur
I got profiled by a few cops, too
Can't stop, ain't stop, too hot
Came out like the daughter of Aaliyah and 2Pac
And I pop from the jump, ain't nobody too shocked
And I'm out
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