2Pac - Thug 4 Life




(2pac)
HAHA
Thug for life nigga
Can't you read the signs?
ay fuck it man

(Whatchu doin?) Mobbin' like a motherfucker stuck
Can you put your middle finger out the window gettin' fucked off - liquor
Get loaded can't control it
Nigga pass me the blunt and let me roll it
You get the bones act to the whole stack
Thats fo sho black
To be a mack and keep your dough fat
And tell me what does it take to be a G?
I started with a quarter ounce and bounced to a key
You gotta watch your back stay strapped, be alert
Started as a young muthafucka doin' dirt
And now im in the rap game like the crack game
I got enemies
Can't pretend to see my friends are not my enemies
And even thug muthafuckas wanna have fun
Stuck it, buckin' my muthafuckin magnum
What does it take to be a G?
Silence is a must, violence is a plus
Plus, shots at my adversaries
Dem niggaz scary best it's time to be buried
Cause ill be buckin' in a fuckin hurry

Chorus X3

Tell em'
Thug for life
High till' I die
When em' stupid ass bitches ask why?

2pac

Game? Thicker than most of these tricks
I got my mind on makin' money,
But you stuck on these fake bitches
And jealous muthafuckas can't see
That it's the fame that caught these stupid bitches, pass the pussy free
So tell me why u sweatin' a muthafucka like me?
A young nigga tryin' to a hustle up some G's
You pussy ass playa hatin' hoes speakin' down on niggas
Jumpin' around at the shows
And your the first muthafucka to jump
To the trunk when it's time for fun
Little trick ass punk
Thug muthafuckas don't die we get high and we multiply
Muthafuckaa!!
Give a holla to my niggas in the Bay
I'm livin' in LA still clutchin' on my AK

Chorus X6

Tell em'
Thug for life
High till' I die
When em' stupid ass bitches ask why?

THUG FOR LIFE BIATCH!!

Yeah nigga, thug life, from now till' the muthafuckin' ever
Havenotz in this muthafucka

2Pac feat. Danny Boy - I Ain't Mad at Cha (Video)

 
* has a different third verse than the "All Eyez On Me" version

Change, shit
I guess change is good for any of us
Whatever it take for any of y'all niggaz to get up out the hood
Shit, I'm wit cha, I ain't mad at cha
Got nuttin but love for ya, do your thing boy

Yeah, all the homies that I ain't talk to in a while
I'ma send this one out for y'all, knahmean?
Cause I ain't mad at cha
Heard y'all tearin up shit out there, kickin up dust
[Danny Boy] I ain't...
Givin a motherfucker, heheheheheh
Yeah, niggaz
[Danny Boy] ...mad at cha
Cause I ain't mad at cha

[Verse One: 2Pac]
Now we was once two niggaz of the same kind
Quick to holla at a hoochie with the same line
You was just a little smaller but you still roller
Got stretched to Y.A. and hit the hood swoll
Member when you had a jheri curl didn't quite learn
On the block, witcha glock, trippin off sherm
Collect calls to the till, sayin how ya changed
Oh you a Muslim now, no more dope game
Heard you might be comin home, just got bail
Wanna go to the Mosque, don't wanna chase tail
I seems I lost my little homie he's a changed man
Hit the pen and now no sinnin is the game plan
When I talk about money all you see is the struggle
When I tell you I'm livin large you tell me it's trouble
Congratulation on the weddin, I hope your wife know
She got a playa for life, and that's no bullshitin
I know we grew apart, you probably don't remember
I used to fiend for your sister, but never went up in her
And I can see us after school, we'd BOMB
on the first motherfucker with the wrong shit on
Now the whole shit's changed, and we don't even kick it
Got a big money scheme, and you ain't even with it
Hmm, knew in my heart you was the same motherfucker bad
Go toe to toe when it's time for roll you got a brother's back
And I can't even trip, cause I'm just laughin at cha
You tryin hard to maintain, then go head
cause I ain't mad at cha
(Hmm, I ain't mad at cha)

[Chorus: Danny Boy]
I ain't, mad, at cha (2Pac: I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't, mad, at cha

[Verse Two: 2Pac]
We used to be like distant cousins, fightin, playin dozens
Whole neighborhood buzzin, knowin, that we wasn't
Used to catch us on the roof or behind the stairs
I'm gettin blitzed and I reminsce on all the times we shared
Besides bumpin n grindin wasn't nothin on our mind
In time we learned to live a life of crime
Rewind us back, to a time was much too young to know
I caught a felony lovin the way the guns blow
And even though we seperated, you said that you'd wait
Don't give nobody no coochie while I be locked up state
I kiss my Mama goodbye, and wipe the tears from her lonely eyes
Said I'll return but I gotta fight the fate's arrived
Don't shed a tear, cause Mama I ain't happy here
I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years
They got me goin mad, I'm knockin busters on they backs
in my cell, thinkin, "Hell, I know one day I'll be back"
As soon as I touch down
I told my girl I'll be there, so prepare, to get fucked down
The homies wanna kick it, but I'm just laughin at cha
Cause youse a down ass bitch, and I ain't mad at cha

[Chorus: Danny Boy]
I ain't, mad, at cha (2Pac: I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't, mad, at cha (2Pac: A true down ass bitch, and I ain't mad at cha)

[Verse Three: 2Pac]
Father forgive us for livin while all my homies stuck in prison
Barely breatin believin that the world is a prison
It's like a ghetto we can never leave
A broken rose givin bloom to the cracks of the concrete
So many other things for us to see
Things to be, our history so full of tragedy and misery
To all my homies never made it home
The dead peers I shed tattoo tears for, when I'm alone
Picture us inside a ghetto heaven, a place to rest
Findin peace through this land of stress
In my chest I feel pain comin sudden storms
Life full of rain in this game watch for landstorms
Our unborn never got to grow, never got to see what's next
In this world full of countless threats
I beg God, to make a way for our ghetto kids to breathe
Show a sign, make us all believe
Cause I ain't mad at cha

[Chorus: Danny Boy]
I ain't, mad at cha (2Pac: and I ain't mad at cha)
Iiiiiiiii ain't mad (2Pac: hell nah I ain't mad at cha) at cha
I ain't, mad at mha (2Pac: and I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't, mad at cha (2Pac: I ain't mad at cha)
I ain't, mad at cha, noooo
I ain't mad at chaaaaahhhhhhhh

Не могу да верујем да најбољу песму нисте поставили 

2Pac feat Stretch -   Pain
Above the Rim - soundtrack *


* only appears on the vinyl and cassette versions

[voice sample from Star Trek V]
I couldn't help but notice your pain
[My pain?]
It runs deep
Share it with me!

They'll never take me alive, I'm gettin' high with my four-five
Cocked on these suckas, time to die
Even as a youngster causin' ruckus on the back of the bus
i was a fool all through high school  kickin' up dust
But now I'm labelled as a trouble maker  who can you blame?
Smokin' weed helped me take away the pain
So I'm hopeless rollin' down the freeway swervin, don't worry
I'm about to crash up on the curb cause my visions blurry
Maybe if they tried to understand me, what should I do?
I had to feed my fuckin' family, what else could I do
but be a thug
out slangin' with the homies
fuck hangin' with them phonies in the club
got my mind on danger
never been a stranger to homicide
my cities full of gang bangers and drive bys
why do we die at an early age
he was so young
but still a victim of the 12 gauge
my memories of a corpse
mind full of sick thoughts
and I ain't goin back to court
so fuck what you thought I'm drinkin' hennessey
runnin from my enemies will I live to be 23
there's so much pain

(Chorus)

Ohhhh....
Tired of the Strain and the Pain
Ohhhh....
Tired of the Strain and the Pain

years and years of that rough life
runnin crazed and wild as a kid and growin tough with a knife
and livin trifed on the regular
bokin out competitors
see them take a move and take them down like a fuckin predator
get in trouble everyday in school
act a fool
and you know I had to break every rule
showin off for the bitches cause I had the mad rep
so I had to watch my back when it was time to step
[????] with love for me
pop, pop, pop
and send a chuckle up above for me
Aiyyo currency kept passing me by, but I didn't cry
broke and head off with the pack and started sellin coke
And now the money's looking lovely
Pop the drop top and now the bitches wanna rub me
Kick 'em the game
it's all the same
i kick it back yo
Give 'em slack yo
and now they label me the mack yo
people check it
get disrespected if you front the the birdman
you heard man
catch a couple shots from the glock in my hand
Damn! At least I'm realistic with my biscuit
you know you get your ass twisted so run for cover
me and my man got a plan kickin' major dust
so if your on nigga look for the gauge to bust
a lot of pressure with the street fame
it's a deep game
and my mama always cryin'
yo there's so much pain

(Chorus)

Ohhhh...
Ohhhh...

They got me mobbin like I'm
loc'ed and ready to get my slug on
i load my clip and slip my motherfuckin' gloves on
i ain't scared to blast on these suckas if they test me
Trust, I got my glock cocked playa if they press me
Bust on motherfuckers with a - paaassion
Better duck cause I ain't lookin when I'm - blaaastin
I'm a nuttin drinkin Hennessey and gettin' high
On the lookout for my enemies, don't wanna die
Tell me why cause this stress is gettin' major
A buck-fifty across the face with my razor
what can I do but be a thug until I'm dead and gone
keep my brain on the game and stay head strong
these sorry bastards
want to kill me in my sleep but will they can I see
and everyday it just a struggle
steady thuggin' in the streets
and i'll be ballin' loc
don't let 'em make you worry
keep swingin' at these suckas till you buried
i was born to raise hell, a nigga from the gutta,
with a mother on drugs
I'm kickin dust up
ready to bust
I'm on the scene steady muggin' mean
until they kill me
i'll be livin this life
i know you feel me
there's so much pain

(Chorus)

Ohhh...
Tired of the Strain and the Pain
Ohhh...
Tired of the Strain and the Pain
Ohhh...
Tired of the Strain and the Pain
Ohhh...
Tired of the Strain and the Pain

Ohhhhhh....

2Pac - Late Night

[DJ Quik]
Hey 'Pac, it's yo' boy
Hey man so far I've been listenin to your album
and I ain't heard nuttin you could kick back and smoke a beadie to
You know?

Yeah like that
Some of that mellow shit
Some of that shit that make bitches drink
Make niggaz think
And help you check a fat-ass bank, hahahah
So why don't you kick some of that shit, nigga only you know how
Hahahah, feel me?

[2Pac]
I'm barely standin, and plus my secondhand say it's midnight
Some Alize and Cristal guaranteed to get right
Like misdemeanors is a small thang
With DJ Quik in this bitch, I let my balls hang
Runnin through the street lights, cause we like, yo nigga
get your mobb on show em what a G like
Around the corner it's like Vegas, or better yet like Reno
Niggaz poppin, welcome to our casino, cause you and me know
hundred percent like a c-note
Lookin for a bitch that's half-black and filipino
And when I meet her I'ma offer her some indo
Tounge-kissin on the window of a pearl white limo
Don't wanna be your man, I'm your nigga
Touch me here, I'll get bigger
While I'm diggin I'll get deep into your liver
I'm game type
Love fuckin bitches in the same night
My words are aphrodisiacs if you say em right
The club be poppin so I'm stoppin at the Fat Burger
Look through the paper it's another black crack murder
The city's full of surprises, you can live or you can die
You can fuck on the first night, or try, in the late night

* DJ Quik cuts and scratches this sequence 2X*
"Last night.. last night changed it all"
['Pac] In the late night!
"Last night.."
"I don't give a fuck, where you gon'.. be"
['Pac] In the late night!

[Hussein Fatal]
Around my way we lamp, many styles get cramped
I clock rocks in the rain til my socks is damp
Ain't NUTTIN like bein a thug when I can just
sit on the Row of Death straight knowin that I'm blessed
Hussein Fatal, flawless fatality
Overdosin on crime, three steps from reality
Get up to get down, represent your town, last night
was poppin like like cocked glocks with hollow-tip rounds

[Kastro]
From bootycalls to bail sheets, it ain't no tellin
if I wake up in the county in my jail sheets
My intuitions and ambitions up in the late night
probably involves me comin up with just to see another day
Might be me who bites the bullet
In these streets where a man journey
With crooked cops and a society who tryin to burn me
I'm like a pit in a cage, spittin my shells in a gauge
Deadly as AIDS, niggaz gettin crossed like a maze
Now picture me livin my life like a king, maybe one day
Until then I'm livin Monday through Sunday
Bringin the gunplay for all these beefs and battles
When we collide, I'm a ride on that hide like cattle
Cowards best to skedaddle in the late night

* DJ Quik cuts and scratches this sequence 2X*
"Last night.. last night changed it all"
"Last night.."
"I don't give a fuck, where you gon'.. be"

[2Pac]
Money and multiple gunshots are shown, large amps are blown
Niggaz in low-lows, pursuin mo' hoes, then go home
The life of a California star, and when you see me
in the drop-top Jag', how many niggaz wanna be me?
Game is automatic, manditory I sell
To Live or Die, I survive, but with a story to tell
Cause when you gettin some riches, watch for dumb bitches
They have you labelled a rapist before you get to tongue-kissin
It's a mean world nigga you strapped, or be a throwaway
Will I survive the late night, to see dawn of day?
Nobody knows me, I'm a shadow
My army fatigues made for battle, pockets full of ammo
Cause when I'm out in the streets, I'm on point, where the static?
Too many done died from semis, so now we automatic
I dissapear whenever heated, ride whenever needed
for my niggaz up in Clentin gettin weeded
Continue to roll until I'm old, ride until I die
Supply long as you motherfuckers buy
My homies rolled by in a bucket, but they ain't short and duckin
Slappin niggaz known for tellin bitches FUCK-IT in the late night

* DJ Quik cuts and scratches this sequence *
"Last night.. last night changed it all"
['Pac] It's in the late night!
"Last night.."
"I don't give a fuck, where you gon'.. be"
['Pac] In the late night!

* DJ Quik cuts and scratches this sequence *
"Last night.. last night changed it all"
['Pac] Holla at me in the late night!
"Last night.."
"I don't give a fuck, where you gon'.. be"

2Pac - Old School
Album:  Me Against the World


Here we go; we gonna send this one out to the old school
All these motherfuckers in the Bronx, and Brooklyn, and Staten Island
Queens, and all the motherfuckers that laid it down, the foundation
yaknowhatI'msayin?  Nuttin but love for the old school
That's who we gonna do this one for, ya feel me?

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba
(repeat 3X)

Nothin like the old school/ain't nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

I remember Mr. Magic, FLASH, Grandmaster Caz
LL raisin hell but, that didn't last
Eric B. & Rakim was, the shit to me
I flip to see a Doug E. Fresh show, with Ricky D
and Red Alert was puttin in work, with Chuck Chill
Had my homies on the hill gettin ill, when shit was real
Went out to steal, remember Raw, with Daddy Kane
when De La Soul was puttin Potholes in the game
I can't explain how it was, Whodini
had me puffin on that buddha gettin buzzed, cause there I was
Them block parties in the projects, and on my block
You diggi don't stop, sippin on that Private Stock
Through my speaker Queen Latifah, and MC Lyte
Listen to Treach, KRS to get me through the night
With T La Rock and Mantronix, to Stetsasonic
Remember "Push It" was the bomb shit, nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Heheheh, it ain't nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Ain't nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Yeaheheh, it ain't nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Ain't nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Heheh... I had, Shell Toes, and BVD's
A killer crease inside my Lee's when I hit the streets
I'm playin skelly, ring to leavey, or catch a kiss
before the homies in my hood learned to smack a bitch, I remember
way back, the weak weed they had
Too many seeds in the trey bag
I'm on the train headin uptown, freestylin
with some wild kids from Bucktown, profilin
cause the hoochies was starin, thinkin, "Why them niggaz swearin?"
I'm wonderin if that's her hair, I remember
Stickball, pump the hoochies on the wall
or takin leaks on the steps, stinkin up the hall
Through my childhood, wild as a juvenile
A young nigga tryin to stay away from Riker's Isle
Me and my homies breakin nights, tryin to keep it true
Out on the roof sippin 90 proof, ain't nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Heheheyah, that's right, it ain't nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Ain't nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way" -->  Grand Puba

Nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Ain't nuttin like the old school

"What more could I say?  I wouldn't be here today
if the old school didn't pave the way"  --> Grand Puba

Hahah... remember poppin and lockin to Kurtis Blow, the name belts
And Scott LaRock the Super Hoe back in Latin Quarters
When Slick Rick was spittin La-Di-Da-Di
Gamin the hoochies at the neighborhood block parties, I remem-ber
breakdancin to Melle Mel
Jekyll and Hyde, LL when he Rocks the Bells
Forget the TV, about to hit the streets and do graffiti
Be careful don't let the transit cops see me
It ain't nuttin like the old school!

(Grand Puba sample repeats every bar to end)

It ain't nuttin like the old school
Hahahah, it ain't nuttin like the old school
Hey, heheaha, on the real though, ain't nuttin like the old school

...

Remember seein Brooklyn go crazy up in the motherfuckin party?
Member how fuckers used to go, "Is Brooklyn in the house?"
and motherfuckers would lose they GOD DAMN MIND
That's the old school to me; that's what I'm sayin (Su-per, Sperm)
I remember goin places that motherfuckers was scared to say
they was from anywhere but Brooklyn; that shit was the bomb
Back in the motherfuckin old school nigga
Remember skelly nigga?  Knockin niggaz out the box, poppin boxes?
Member stickball?  Member niggaz to run that shit like that?
Member the block members screamin up at your mom from the window?
(LL Cool J is hard as HELL...)
The ice cream truck, member all the mother...
Member the italian icey's yo?
Yo remember the italian icey's the spanish niggaz comin down
with the coconut icey's and shit?

I came through the door, said it before
That was the SHIT!

2Pac - Young Niggaz
Album:  Me Against the World


I wanna dedicate this one to Robert 'Yummy' Sanderford
and all other lil' young niggaz that's in a rush to be gangstas

As a young nigga, I'm almost ?swellin? in the wind
Give anythang, to be that innocent again, when I was ten
I didn't bang but I was hangin with the homies
tell them niggaz started slangin that they don't know me
I got my hustle on, learned to ignore what couldn't pay me
Lately I've been tryin to make a bill-ion, can you play me
with that jealousy they need to miss me, don't sweat me
If them cowards really want me, come get me, and even I
someday will die but I'm cautious, I'm fin' to ride
Put down the top, now we flossin
Hit the freeway, let the wind blow, drop the window
Workin with a twenty sack of indo, feelin good
Stop through the hood, grab the young thugs
And I can't help but reminisce back when we slung drugs, know it's bad
but all we had was our hopes and dreams
Couldn't see unless we learned to slang dope to fiends
as young niggaz

   He's the kind of G like everybody knows
As a young nigga
   He's always G'd up, from head to toe
My memories as a young nigga
   Always got it blown like Al Capone
Young nigga
   He's the downest G I've ever known

Back in Junior High, when we was barely gettin by, when daddy died
That's when my momma started gettin high
My neighborhood was full of drivebys, couldn't survive
All our homies livin short lives, I couldn't cry
Told my momma if I did die, just put a blunt in my casket
let me get my dead homies high
Come follow me throughout my history, it's just
_Me Against the World_ stuck in misery; as a young nigga
My only thing was to be paid
Life full of riches avoid snitched cause they shady, back in the days
We always found the time to play,
but that's before they taught them gangbangers how to spray
Not just L.A., but in the Bay and in Chicago and even St. Louis
Every stadium that I go, when will they change?
Stuck in the game like a dumb nigga
Remember how it was, to be a young nigga

   He's the kind of G like everybody knows
As a young nigga
   He's always G'd up, from head to toe
My memories as a young nigga
   Always got it blown like Al Capone
Young nigga
   He's the downest G I've ever known

I'm tellin you..
.. to be young, have your brains and have every ? and all that
Yo, y'all niggaz don't know how good you really do got it
Muh'fuckers need to just calm down
and peep what the fuck they wanna do for the rest of the life
'Fore you end your life before you BEGIN your life
You dumb nigga

Now that I'm grown, I got my mind on bein somethin
Don't wanna be another statistic, out here doin nuttin
Tryin to maintain in this dirty game, keep it real
and I will even if it kills me, my young niggaz
break away from these dumb niggaz
Put down the guns and have some fun nigga, the rest'll come nigga
Fame is a fast thang, that gangbangin
puttin niggaz in a casket, murdered for hangin
at the wrong place at the wrong time, no longer livin
Cause he threw up the wrong sign, and every day
I watch the murder rate increases, and even worse
the epidemic and diseases, what is the future?
The projects lookin hopeless, where
more and more borhters givin up and don't care
Sometimes I hate when brothers act up, I hit the weed
and I proceed to blow the track up, for young niggaz

   He's the kind of G like everybody knows
For these young niggaz
   He's always G'd up, from head to toe
My memories as a young nigga
   He always got it blown like Al Capone
Take it slow nigga, it's for the young niggaz
   He's the downest G I've ever known
As a young nigga

   He's the kind of G like everybody knows
   He's always G'd up, from head to toe
Memories as a young nigga
   He always got it blown like Al Capone
   He's the downest G I've ever known
['Pac talking overlaps singing last four lines]
This go out to the young thugs, the have-nots (you know)
Little bad motherfuckers from the block (that's right)
Them niggaz that's thirteen and fourteen
Drivin Cadillacs, Benzes and shit (I see you boy)
Young motherfuckin hustlers (make that money boy)
Stay strong nigga
You could be a fuckin accountant, not a dope dealer
youknowhatI'msayin?  (Go to school nigga, go to school)
Fuck around and, you pimpin out here
You could be a lawyer (really doe)
Niggaz gotta get they priorities straight
(Don't see Johnny Cochran out in this motherfucker)
Really doe.. young niggaz.. little RahRah
(sup nigga) Especially my little cousins don't be no dumb guy
(Don't be a dumb nigga, listen, young niggaz)

* singers freestyle and skat to the end of the song *

2Pac - Soulja's Story
Album:  2Pacalypse Now


[repeat softly 2X in the background] *
All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja
All you wanted to be, a soulja, like me
All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja
All you wanted to be, a soulja, like me

* audible after 'Pac says the word "welfare"

['Pac talking as 'Soulja']
They cuttin off welfare..
They think crime is risin now
You got whites killin blacks,
cops killin blacks, and blacks killin blacks
Shit just gon' get worse
They just gon' become souljas
Straight souljas

Chorus: 2Pac (repeat 2X)

All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja
All you wanted to be, a soulja, like me
All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja
All you wanted to be, a soulja, like me

[2Pac as 'Soulja']
Crack done took a part of my family tree
My mom is on the shit, my daddy's splittin, mom is steady blamin me
Is it my fault, just cause I'm a young black male?
Cops sweat me as if my destiny is makin crack sales
Only fifteen and got problems
Cops on my tail, so I bail til I dodge 'em
They finally pull me over and I laugh
"Remember Rodney King?" and I blast on his punk ass
Now I got a murder case..
.. you speak of heaven punk?  I never heard of the place
Wanted to come up fast, got a Uz and a black mask
Duckin fuckin 'Task', now who's the jack-ass?
Keep my shit cocked, cause the cops got a glock too
What the fuck would you do - drop them or let 'em drop you?
I chose droppin the cop
I got me a glock, and a glock for the niggaz on my block
Momma tried to stab me, I moved out
Sold a pound a weed, made G's, bought a new house
I'm only seventeen, I'm the new kid
Got me a crew, bought 'em jewels, and a Uz'-thick
But all good things don't last
'Task' came fast, and busted my black ass
Coolin in the pen, where the good's kept
Now my little brother wants to follow in my footsteps
A soulja

Chorus

[2Pac]
Buck, buck - niggaz get fucked, don't step to this
Quiet as kept I'm blessed on a quest with a death wish
Tell 'em to come and test, and arrest, nigga it's hectic
Here's the anorexic, I'm makin it to an exit
Walkin through the streets on the black tip
Packed with several gats, cause I'm on some "pay 'em back" shit
Niggaz don't wanna try me, brother you'll get shot down
Now I'm king of the block, since my bigger brother's locked down
I'm hot now, so many punk police have got shot down
Other coppers see me on the block, and they jock now
That's what I call a kingpin
Send my brother what he needs and some weed up to Sing-Sing
Tellin him just be ready set
Pack ya shit up quick; and when I hit, be prepared to jet
Niggaz from the block on the boat now
Every single one got a gun, that'll smoke - pow!
These punks about to get hit by the best
I'm wearin double vest.. so aim at my fuckin chest
I'll be makin straight dome calls
Touch the button on the wall, you'll be pickin up your own balls
I can still hear my mother shout..
"Hit the pig nigga, break your bigger brother out"
I got a message for the warden
I'm comin for ya ass, as fast as Flash Gorden
We get surrounded in the mess hall, yes y'all
A crazy motherfucker makin death calls
Just bring me my brother and we leavin
For every minute you stall, one of y'all bleedin..
They brought my brother in a jiffy
I took a cop, just in case things got tricky
And just as we was walkin out (BANG!)
I caught a bullet in the head, the screams never left my mouth
My brother caught a bullet too
I think he gon' pull through, he deserve to
The fast life ain't everything they told ya
Never get much older, following the tracks of a soulja

Chorus

Chorus [softly in background 0.5X]

['Pac speaking over background]
Straight soulja, 1993, and forward..

2Pac - Violent 
Album:  2Pacalypse Now 
 

[2Pac]
They claim that I'm violent, just cause I refuse to be silent
These hypocrites are havin fits, cause I'm not buyin it
Defyin it, envious because I will rebel against
any oppressor, and this is known as self defense
I show no mercy, they claim that I'm the lunatic
But when the shit gets thick, I'm the one you go and get
Don't look confused, the truth is so plain to see
Cause I'm the nigga that you sell-outs are ashamed to be
In every Jeep and every car, brothers stomp this
I'm Never Ignorant, Getting Goals Accomplished
The underground railroad on an uprise
This time the truth's gettin told, heard enough lies
I told em fight back, attack on society
If this is violence, then violent's what I gotta be
If you investigate you'll find out where it's comin from
Look through our history, America's the violent one
Unlock my brain, break the chains of your misery
This time the payback for evil shit you did to me
They call me militant, racist cause I will resist
You wanna censor somethin, motherfucker censor this!
My words are weapons, and I'm steppin to the silent
Wakin up the masses, but you, claim that I'm violent
Chorus:

1st occurance: as written
2nd occurance: add last three lines again
3rd occurance: repeat first five lines twice
4th occurance: repeat first five lines twice
5th occurance: second to fifth line, first to fifth line
6th occurance: emphasis on second line, whole chorus
7th occurance: first three lines only

"They claimin that I'm violent" -> Chuck D (cut and scratched)
"Fuck the damn cop!" (cut and scratched)
"Just because we play what the people want.."
"They claimin that I'm violent" -> Chuck D (cut and scratched)
"Fuck the damn cop!" (cut and scratched)
"Just because we play what the people want.."
"They claimin that I'm violent" -> Chuck D (cut and scratched)
"Fuck the damn cop!" (cut and scratched)

[2Pac]
The cops can't stand me, but they can't touch me
Call me a dope man, cause I rock dope beats
Jacked by the police, didn't have my ID
I said, "Excuse me, why you tryin to rob me?"
He had tha nerve to, say that I had a curfew
(Do you know what time it is? Get out the fucking car, or I'll hurt you!)
"Get out the car... or I'lI hurt you"
So here I go, I better make my mind up
Pick my nine up, or hit the line-up
I chose B, stepped into the streets
The first cop grabbed me, the other ripped my seat
They grabbed my homie and they threw him to the concrete
(Ay man.. aiyyo.. ay man just c'mon ?)
("What you doin man?") They tried to frame me
They tried to say I had some dope in the back seat
But I'm a rap fiend, not a crack fiend
My homie panicked ("I'm out") he tried to run
(Freeze nigga!) I heard a bullet fire from the cop's gun
My homie dropped so, I hit the cop
I kept swingin, yo, I couldn't stop
Before I knew it, I was beatin the cop senseless
The other cop dropped his gun, he was defenseless
(? Arrrrggggh, fuck you! Ungggh!)
Now I'm against this cop who was racist
Given him a taste, of tradin places
And all this, cause the peckerwood was tryin this
frame up, but I came up
Now they claimin that I'm violent

Chorus

[2Pac]
As I was beatin on a cop, I heard a gun click (uh-ohh)
Then the gun shot, but I wasn't hit
I turned around it was my homie with the gun in hand
He shot the cop (damn!) now he's a dead man
I said, come on, it's time for us to get away
(Let's go, we gotta get the fuck outta here)
They called for backup, and they'll be on their way
Jumped in the car, and tried to get away quick
The car wouldn't start (damn!) we in deep shit
So we jumped out (C'mon let's take the cop's car)
We drove a little ways thinkin that we got far
But I looked up, and all I saw was blue lights
If I die tonight, I'm dying in a gunfight
I grabed the AK, my homie took the 12 gauge
Load em up quick, it's time for us to spray
We'll shoot em up with they own fuckin weapons
And when we through sprayin (audi) then we steppin
This is a lesson, to the rednecks and crooked cops
You fuck with real niggaz, get ya fuckin ass dropped
So here we go, the police against us
Dark as dusk, waitin for the guns to bust (What's next man?)
What's next, I don't know and I don't care
One things fo' sho', tommorrow I won't be here
But if I go, I'm takin all these punks with me
Pass me a clip G, now come and get me
You wanna sweat me, never get me to be silent
Givin them a reason, (a reason) to claim that I'm violent...

Chorus (3)
Chorus (4)
Chorus (5)
Chorus (6)
Chorus (7)

2Pac - Point the Finga
Album:  Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.


"You could get the finger.. the middle!" {*1}
   "Come and get some!" {*2}

[2Pac]
Ahh yeah, they love to point the finger
{*1} {*2}

Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch
{*1} {*2} Niggaz love to point the finga
Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch
{*1} {*2}

[2Pac]
I thought I hit rock bottom, they ban my album, point the finga
I guess nobody loves a real nigga-slash-rap singer
I thought I'd bring a little truth to the young troops
I brought proof that the niggaz need guns too
It's not to be a racist, but let's face this:
wouldn't you if we could trade places?
I got lynched by some crooked cops, and to this day
them same motherfuckers on the beat gettin major paid
But when I get my check they takin tax out
So, we payin for these pigs to knock the blacks out
Ain't that a bitch, some officers are gettin rich
Whoopin on thugs and robbin drug dealers for they shit
As far as jealousy, bein a celebrity
No matter who committed the crime, they all yell at me
And the media is greedier than most
You could sell em your soul or they'll be on ya til a niggaz ghost
And everyday I read the paper there's another lie
They show my picture for the crimes of another guy
Now how's that for the life of a big shot
A dead cop, a law suit, a little kid shot
I play them nuttin ass marks in the park
for tryin to earn they stripes in the dark
Just cause I come there, don't mean I from there, peep:
only jealous motherfuckers beef, and point the finga
 
Chorus: repeat 4X

Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch
{*1} {*2}

[2Pac]
As I run up on em madman, a nutcase with a screw loose
A zoot troupe full of foolies with toolies
Niggaz run to me don't come to me with beef
Take your jewels and your jeep, boom boom!  Let that ass sleep
It's gettin hectic, niggaz run, quick
Buckshots are the payback for dumb shit
All you niggaz on the block tryin to test me
Best wear a vest or get open like, sesame
I'll run up on you mad deep; while you're tryin to sleep
I'm steady pumpin bullets in your sheets
Wake up, motherfucker, don't stutter
Point blank by a nigga from the gutter, yeah!
Gimme mine, gimme mine, gimme, mine
Ban my rhymes, now I'm back to bustin, nines
And bustaz can't get none, hell no
A quick flurry and he's buried with a swelled jaw
I came up from the amateurs to pro hits
at 5-0, so you know I take no shit
And everybody wants to kill a bringer
of bad news, so they choose, to point the finga
 
Chorus

[2Pac]
One two three, peace to the real G's
Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me
I bring skills and I build, kill at will
Smoke sess til I'm ill, still feel me?
I say one two three, peace to the real G's
Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me
Pick it up, pick it up, give it up
Best to duck or get fucked for your bucks
Scream one two three, peace to the real G's
Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me
I can't give up, it's a black thang
And I ain't goin back to the crack game
(You can do it son; be a man and stand up or run)
Bitches, let em point the finga
(You can do it son; be a man and stand up or run)
Snitches, let em point the finga
Yo, one two three, peace to the real G's
Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me
I guess nobody loves a rap singer
That's why these motherfuckers.. (hahaha!) point the finga
 
Chorus

Chorus

Chorus 3/4

2Pac feat. Wycked - Papa'z Song
Album:  Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.


   Daddy's home...
   
[2Pac]
Heh, so??
You say that like that means somethin to me
You've been gone a mighty long motherfuckin time
for you to be comin home talkin that "daddy's home" shit (nigga)
We been gettin along fine just without you
Me, my brother, and my mother
So if you don't mind, you can step the FUCK off, POPS.. fuck you!
   
[2Pac]
Had to play catch by myself, what a sorry sight
A pitiful plight, so I pray for a starry night
Please send me a pops before puberty
the things I wouldn't do to see a piece of family unity
Moms always work, I barely see her
I'm startin to get worried without a pops I'll grow to be her
It's a wonder they don't understand kids today
so when I pray, I pray I'll never grow to be that way
And I hope that he answers me
I heard God don't like ugly well take a look at my family
A different father every weekend
Before we get to meet him they break up before the week ends
I'm gettin sick of all the friendships
As soon as we kick it he done split and the whole shit ends quick
How can I be a man if there's no role model?
Strivin to save my soul I stay cold drinkin a forty bottle
I'm so sorry...
   
(Chorus)
I'm so sorry
for all this time (I'm so sorry)
for all this time
for all this time (don't lie)
I'm so sorry
for all this time (so, sorry)
for all this time
for all this time, so sorry baby!
   
[Wycked]
Moms had to entertain many men
Didn't wanna do it but it's time to pay the rent again
I'm gettin a bit older and I'm startin to be a bother
Moms can't stand me cause I'm lookin like my father
Should I stay or run away, tell me the answer
Moms ignores me and avoids me like cancer
Grow up rough and it's hard to understand stuff
Moms was tough cause his poppa wasn't man enough
Couldn't stand up to his own responsibilities
Instead of takin care of me, he'd rather live lavishly
That's why I'll never be a father;
unless you got the time it's a crime don't even bother
(That's when I started hatin the phony smiles
 Said I was an only child)
Look at mama's lonely smile
It's hard for a son to see his mother cry
She only loves you, but has to fuck with these other guys
I'm so sorry...

(Chorus)
I'm so sorry
for all this time
for all this time
for all this time
I'm so sorry
for all this time
for all this time (so sorry)
for all this time, so sorry baby!
   
[2Pac]
Man child in the promised land couldn't afford many heroes
Moms was the only one there my pops was a no-show
And ohh -I guess ya didn't know
that I would grow to be so strong
Lookin kinda pale, was it the ale oh pops was wrong
Where was the money that you said, you would send me
talked on the phone and you sounded so friendly
Ask about school and my welfare
but it's clear, you ain't sincere hey who the hell cares
You think I'm blind but this time I see you comin, Jack
You grabbed your coat, left us broke, now ain't no runnin back
Ask about my moms like you loved her from the start
Left her in the dark, she fell apart from a broken heart
So don't even start with that "wanna be your father" shit
Don't even bother with your dollars I don't need it
I'll bury moms like you left me all alone G
Now that that I finally found you, stay the Fuck away from me
You're so sorry..
   
(Chorus)
I'm so sorry (so sorry)
for all this time (so, so sorry)
for all this time (I'm so so sorry)
for all this time (fuck that!)
I'm so sorry
for all this time (no)
for all this time (so sorry)
for all this time, so sorry baby!
   
[Tupac - impersonating his father]
I never meant to leave but I was wanted
Crossed too many people every house I'd touch was haunted
Had to watch the strangers every brother was in danger
If I was to keep you breathin, had to be out of range-a
Had to move, one to lost my name and pick the number
Made me watch my back I had no happy home to run to
Maybe it's my fault for being a father livin fast
But livin slow, mean half the dough, and you won't get no ass
Hindsight shows me it was wrong all along
I wanted to make some dough so you would grow to be so strong
It took a little longer than I thought
I slipped, got caught, and sent to jail by the courts
Now I'm doin time and I wish you'd understand
all I ever wanted was for you to be a man
and grow to be the type you was meant to be
Keep the war fightin by the writings that you sent to me
I'm so sorry...
   
(Chorus w/ variations til end)