Lyrics:
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
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
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
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
begging me
You know what you should've capped like 2pac with a glock
They're deadly, better not upset my thug mentality sucker
You know you done fucked
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
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
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
a bitch
I'll dare ya ass to try to run that 2PAC shit
I goes high-ho silver like the fuckin' Moan Ranger
Playin' here's out my dick inside a total
smoke the best of dro while she down with some jack-jack
My eyes like the red carpet still on the blue side
They locked me up just like 2Pac and I
punch niggaz with glasses
Back in my third grade classes, squeezin' asses
My niggaz is never over, understand
I'm a 2Pac fan, this is the realest shit I
to win
Diz to the outside, 2Pac up the center
A ten minute game and we were the winners
The boys started smackin', talkin' that slack and
till he see
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
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
that shit, I'll knock you out
A nigga be pickin' you up off of the ground for thinkin' you 2Pac
And shawty give me neck till I pass out
And she just
on girlfriend, I'm just messing wit' ya
You know I never play you
Out like a velcro mustache
Especially when you're giving up 'nough ass
And it don't stop on 2Pac
Dogg Pound, LA zuu
Shit ain't even real no more
(Ain't nothing stop, don't stop
That's for damn sure)
Holla at my homie Pac and shit
(I heard 2Pac fucked
Acquired his knowledge from the streets
Makaveli, 2Pac Shakur
Was the rose that grew from concrete
America's most complete artist, regardless
One
to get the fuck up off, yeah
I’m on the loose like 2Pac from Juice
God bless the dead
But I'm already dead from trauma to the head
I'mma verbal
everything in the
Someone help me please universe within the light
Someone help me! Understanding
They already did 2Pac My children, all six
Yeah, fool spice 1, LP, 2Pac
Doin' it like that
Takin' it one day at a time
Stayin' Headstrong, you know
Life is way too hard let them know 'Pac:
to wish that I was 2Pac
Then I realized that might get you shot
Figured I just gonna be myself though
Niggas hate me, Documentary on they shelf though
In
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