Lyrics:
In today's music news: the ever-controversial 2Pac Shakur
Has just released another album under the alias "Makaveli"
Music insiders are running
Suge Shot Me
In today's music news: the ever controversial Tupac Shakur has
Just released another album under the alias Makaveli.
Music insiders are
Murphy's Law
Generation X—will I ever be your ex?
Flaws of a baby step', mauled by the mouth a bit
Pause, put me under stress, crawled under rocks,
while you're
Pushing up daisies
Bitch what the fuck you talking 'bout
(talking 'bout)
This that real serial killer
Murder music shit
Run up in yo fucking
strap
Say my name three times like Candyman
Bet I roll on yo' ass like an avalanche
A sole survivor, learned to get high and pull drive-bys
Murder my
Fred: check Slim Shady do the mic kid
Eminem: I dont do black music I dont do white music
I make fight music for high school kids I put lives
at risk
you gotta remember i'm a
Little hick ass kid who
Lives in Cheatam County i grew
Up on like Alan
Jackson and shit the other stuff
I had to find
For
I'm on a bye
Another flight swear by now I should've touched the sky
Switched the wardrobe on em I guess I'm gettin' fly
You know I never really cared
the music continue to crescendo
I can see the whole fuckin' venue from my window
That's when you know you're schizo
(Hello darkness, my old friend)
'Cause
all I
Wanna do is chuck it
Bonfire bigger than a rich guys house
Fuggin' rubber baby buggy bumpers
Alan Jackson thumpin' in my
Uncle brother's Hummer
is surrounded by the pain and the violence
So the selling never safe
At the same time snitching to the Jake
Is the quickest way to get found
Who you are,
One Nation under a thug and bullet scar,
Young nation, no revolution and no cause,
One Nation, young, black and dangerous by far,
this, did ya
Feeling all the power, ready to devour
Ladies do you like this nigga
He murders by the hour, oh yeah
Making killing is my fate, crime
Scene
that bitch, and it ain't no asking why they all on my tip
'Cause I get them Benjamins and Jacksons and they all in my grip
Tell me who you know could
If Michael Jackson came alive right now
He'd ask you to smoke one for him
So in his honor
You niggas Spud Webb, coming up short
Think you're Dee
hall shit
They prayin' on my motherfuckin' downfall bitch like a drought but
You gon' get this rain like it's May weather
G.O.O.D. Music, Ye weather
as a sinner
I was feeling stuck give me drugs searching for this ketamine
To drift away from everything
Couldn't face you so I didn't ring got humbled by
(Candlelight and)
Oh shit you scared me
Alexa, play Freddie Jackson
Here’s a station for you based on Freddie Jackson on Amazon music
I wanted to come check up
pursuance
They all wack and foolish, while my rap's improving
I just send her a text, followed by dot dot
How much work you put into this? a lot lot
Her head
Turn it pink
On my killa season
With the sidekicks that crack music
Im not talking bout the white powder
My shawty practice that buddha she never speaks
If Michael Jackson came alive right now
He'd ask you to smoke one for him
So in his honor
You niggas Spud Webb, coming up short
Think you're Dee
bricks
Don't call me by my government, call me Masta
My music meant for all the trappers and bastards
Trying to find out their place in the world like
Chorus:
From what I was told niggaz say I'm a hit No Limit like Pac,
Hit Death Row and make some mon', now dance hoe
And blow, up like the world trade
and potent it's as strong as they come
I know niggas claim to be gangsters hear the shots they run
But in my lane these tings are going off just one by one
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