Fallen Star

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2Pac

Tupac Amaru Shakur, also known by his stage names 2Pac and Makaveli, was an American rapper and actor. He is considered by many to have been one of the best rappers of all time. Shakur was born in the Harlem neighborhood of New York City but relocated to California in 1988. more »

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Turn me up, turn me up, turn me up, what
Turn me up, turn me up, turn me up, what
(yeah)
Turn me up, turn me up, turn me up, what
(yeah, what, yeah, uh)

Pack your cannons we outlandishly
Brandish the weapons
Meet Jamaican like you god U-god?
And 'em handing you lessons
We learn a lot from the
60's like glaring 13 necks
Mainly the niggas get shot for
Flaring out their larynx
And get to speakin' on a
Conditions of black people
That's illegal they enforce it with
The force that's lethal
Make you wanna grab a gun and
Throw the all black gear on
Head to congress exercising
Your constitutional right to bear arms
Leather jackets and glasses and you
Can tell it's us the FBI probably bust a nut
If we self destruct
Call it militant but ain't
Nobody killing Barry Goldwater
You can't be militant if you
Ain't got no military
But it's still a very powerful word
Picture some niggas with guns
Got 'em very disturbed, word
Now-a days you could get shot
For a cheap necklace
Back then my people bust shots
For the free breakfast

Now before you see God, or stand before Allah
You could learn from the stars
That fall outta the sky
Everybody act hard, like they got no regard
So we mourn falling stars
They still living all hard
(We still here, word)

This is for Medgar Evers, Martin
And my brother Malcom
Sometimes we be sittin and
Wishing for another outcome
My head be spinning
It be full of why's and the how come's
The value of life is so cheap
If your skin ain't talcum
We need leaders, we looking at entertainers
It's about the cash
So we respect the biggest gainers
Niggas get paid then they run
Away from the community
That ain't gangsta nigga
You the opposite of Huey P
Don't be confusing me with haters, player
Get your paper
Just show respect to the folks who made you
(yeah)
Blessed by the creator so give money nigga
Just don't bring a plate of
Food around a hungry nigga
Out on these streets the police is killing
I'm spilling out my heart on these beats
So I can feed my children (yeah)
Disrespect and I'm a give you a
Bar to save your life
Because we don't need no more fallen stars

Now before you see God, or stand before Allah
You could learn from the stars
That fall outta the sky
Everybody act hard, like they got no regard
So we mourn falling stars
They still living all hard (We still here)

Stalk the stage with the pride of the panther
Hands off Asada and the blood
Of a dance floor
Word, rock on, throw the 2Pac on
He's not gone
You hear his influence in pop songs
Shine brighter than those Vegas lights
Illuminating that Vegas night to the
Party after the fight
'til the gunshots disturb the peace like Luda
Too bad he ain't a white chick in Aruba
They'd have a whole department dedicated
To finding the killer
You'd see Afeni Shakur on Larry King
And motherfucking Dennis Miller
Word, Bill O'Reilly would be
Flapping his gums
How much respect do they have for my people?
Actually none
You either do the nigga packing
A gun who hate niggas
Even though every time he pass a
Mirror he staring at one
My man stressed cause of lack of funds
This the type of shit that make
You wanna drown your liver
And blacken your lungs

Now before you see God, or stand before Allah
You could learn from the stars
That fall outta the sky
Everybody act hard, like they got no regard
So we mourn falling stars
They still living all hard (We still here)
Now before you see God, or stand before Allah
You could learn from the stars
That fall outta the sky
Everybody act hard, like they got no regard
So we mourn falling stars
They still living all hard (We still here)

Now of course this was
Inspired by 2Pac Shakur
Eazy-E, still here (still here)
My man Justo (still here) big L (still here)
Big Pun (still here)
I'm from Brooklyn, you know what I'm saying
Brooklyn know a lot about tragedy
We lost our Big Poppa and our baby girl
That was our whole world, yo (still here)
This is for our fallen stars
Inspired by the poets, revolutionaries
And activists from the generation before us
Come and do our thing on this microphone
When else in the history of this country
Can a black man get on the microphone
And say whatever the hell he wanna say?
It's a lot of responsibility
But we standing on the
Shoulders of our ancestors
So I bear that burden, throw it on my back

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