Lyrics:
the second Celebrity Deathmatch (ding ding)
So tell the medic to bring the medication and quickly (hurry up man!)
I'm sicker than a 2Pac dedication to Biggie
cause my nuts is bigger
Strapped with a tec 9 a mac 10 and 2 glocks
Dumpin' niggas in ditches cause I'm a thug like 2Pac
I'm kickin' it in Cali but
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
there's food there's vultures
More Tony now, back then I was Sosa
I was sent like a penny in a loafer
The 2Pac Deepak Chopra
On a plane drinking wine
the remission for all of our sins
When I was a young one the preacher put oil on my sixth chakra (sixth chakra)
He knew when I was older I'd wanna follow 2Pac
a ratchet, what's good?
It happens in Compton, happens in Queens, happened to Big L
Happened to Chinx and 2Pac in that passenger's seat
Sometimes it's
Mr. Did her wrong
Mr. Sing a song
Hit a bong, Mr. Cheech and Chong
Mr. In my zone
Mr. 2Pac Herringbone, on my collar bone
Heat is on, mister
Mr.
Stopped by the spot, had to serve Pooh bear
He buy one, I front him one, so I left two there
In a two seater, pull up popping 2Pac
Didn't have a safe, so I
Ready Gov? Yeah
Don't let them niggas gaffle you aight
Hehe, run that shit
Yeah bitches, things to get worse
So meet 2Pac and Rich, each to go worse
man… wanna dedicate this song to a
Few of my loved ones that went on to Heaven
Big Herk magic and Chastity Johnson
Nate Dogg 2Pac
And if you’ve every
on Channel 7 he do beats for 2Pac
Now coming out the spring from Heaven
Ya know my piece is, hotter than grease is
With no wrong way to eat
Ya face like
we had 2Pac
An old boom box, chilling in our tube socks
And plus Dre taught us how to roll a 64
And Snoop Dogg taught us how
To roll a sticky dro
So if
corner riding with him ha Ha
All they see is black venom
Then my silhouette
Just watch the fear reappear in they
Eyes when I hit the set
Oh no, 2Pac wit'
mieć ciuchy z Ameryki (łoj)
Tak było minęło nie ma co kleić głupa
Rapowy przemysł odzieżowy z Ameryki upadł
Nie żyje 2Pac a Nas pogrzebał rap
O tym
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
they see me as 2Pac the don
And this bitch with 2 Glocks, I'm wrong
The homie still gon' roll and standin' with your biggest G
You still gon' fold, I
me to give a nigger-y twenty-one gun salute
That's seven shots for 2pac
Seven for Biggie Smalls
Seven for Freaky Tah up in your neighborhood malls
Latifah, the Queen of the flavor
And nothing weaker behind is watching, kick her
The Digital Under-the-Underground, rocks with Shock and 2PAC
With Money
the Neptune sound
Okay, hot Hov', too hot to hold
Ladies love me long time like 2Pac sold
Only way to roll, Jigga and two ladies
I'm too cold, Motorola, two
my nigga seeing 6 figures
Black bottles popping when I'm on the turf
Two private Jets what this nigga's worth
Atlanta, Miami, Rosé
We like 2Pac
the pen like my cousin Bud
Lunatic Insane, and my partner T-Love
Big Tom, Ray Ray, Killa Cuddy, Mac Dre
Cleek, Jamal, Jinx and Bluebonic, man
[ 2Pac ]
Now
shots got the game hot
They even flipped on 2PAC
Snoop Doggy Dogg put the West Coast in gear
Dr Dre, NWA, Eazy E's in here
I want to tell
On yo' block you prolly bred a Fat Pat or 2Pac
Or Big Pun, or B.I., ya homeboys from knee, high
And even when it was storming outside, that nigga'd be by
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