Lyrics:
know that doo-doo
Ipod blastin', 2pac yeah hit em up
Chow down, spit em up
Black bag, get em up
Call the chef tonight, were having sinners for dinner
And please get on a diet
Shoebox came with the doowop
One billion and two cops can't find 2Pac
Two shots, that's two grazed in two days
What goes up must come
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
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
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
stick-ups
I better see five stars next to my picture
If not, 2Pac will cop the Glock and
Come knockin' to getcha
I told you once, motherfucker, I'm a nut
Play
passion
It'll blow your mind hey throw up your legs
Wrap your shit around my back
It's a west side bang fucking
Hoes around the map
? get down with 2Pac
similes
Serve like a waitress and you
Don't want seconds courtesy
Off K Dot, the son of 2Pac
Biggies nephew Big L said I was special
Now let's do, lunch
smoke bitches say i'm too high
Living the life of Biggie and 2Pac
Nigga you know who shot
The day Jay Z go broke nigga when Snupe stop
That will be never
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
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
the crack spot with a laptop
Bumpin' that Biggie Smalls and 2Pac
French braid and weed heads
Where'd all these niggas come from with these dreads?
(Yeah)
Niggas wanna hit me like I'm 2Pac (Yeah)
Bad bitch fuck me in my Gucci tube socks (Yeah)
'Member when I spent my re-up on a oowop, whoa
Your
the credit went to Elvis
Know you never knew that, know you think I'm too black
I just think I'm too real, I grew up on 2Pac
You grew up thinkin' that
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:
niggas gettin' rolled up
You think not gettin' dropped
We can handle this
'Cause 2Pac brain locked on a cannabis
Days are dangerous, shoot 'em
But you
blessings
2pac said is there a ghetto in heaven, 'cause nowadays kids is getting fucked by their reverend
So many people, you gotta make exceptions 'cause
Hit 'em with my 2Pac See my patna, got the midi, got two spots
Baby, take 'em jeans off, leave 'em heels on
Yeah, I'm fuckin' you tonight, that my
knock
Drop top, she was rockin the 2Pac
Said, "Yo D, not me, whatchu got?"
D said, "She's a vivrant thang..
vivrant thang, vivrant thang"
[Fred
2Pac on stage
But, fuck a dream if it's not gon' pay
You feel me?
White socks, hat with my Glock on waist
Couldn't tell me I was not O'Shea
Posted
a bitch
Call me Niggarace each finger, it glists
You try to 2Pac me, I hit you with this
city sweltering hot
Staggering, drunker than those cops that 2Pac shot
I was a crook by the train with that iron thing, concealed
Reaching, soon as I
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