: Intro: 2Pac Hey DeVante Nigga, don'tcha know we're gonna sow up every bitch in the country Me and you, up in the same motherfuckin room On the
deny it, I'm a straight ridah.. 2 - [2Pac *speaking over background*] Not bitches over money Stay on your grind nigga My ambitions as a ridah! My ambitions as a ridah! [2Pac
: [2Pac] Damn, another funeral, another motherfucker Lord knows * 'Pac is choking on blunt smoke * Lord knows * coughing harder * Lord knows * one final
It ain't easy... that's right Chorus: 2Pac It ain't easy, being me Will I see the penitentiary, or will I stay free (repeat 3X) Verse Two: 2Pac I
clap out I get my fly on, and my drop on, due to write on Don't even hate on those who hate me, I got pac on Feelin it, feelin it, chickens are ice grillin
my glory is all that I revel in And my story begins where most others end So all I really got to tell 'em is [Hook 2: x2]
to see that's irrelevant, nigga Size and shit when they firing clips You ain't a thug or a gangsta, stop lyin' you bitch I see you study 2Pac like a
they callin' on the government To try and make somebody quiet For the bullshit they done to me Gangsta Nip, Spice 1 or 2Pac never gave a gun to me So
?) What if I was from Staten? I'd be King Kong knockin down the buildings in Manhattan (Gorilla warfare) Shootouts, real block shit Westcoast assassin on some real 2Pac
Ah me and my nigga 2Pac, finna do what we do Understand this, 'cuz it's very understandable Niggas done changed man You know they done changed, they done
mark Now what type of mixed up trick would kill the future of our race before he would he look his enemy dead in the eye, and open fire? These crazy
what out what you say I know some niggas that'll do your mama I'ma hittin it from behind till the day I expire Heatin it up and bringin the fire you
something I need you to do something else for them man, just to warm em up, and then lay it on me. Get ya pipe. Yea, Gangsta Grillz, Dedication 2,
wit' the decisions that you make I'm gettin' cake, let 'em hate, I'ma elevate I sold my soul to the streets playa, it's too late (Verse 2) Sunrise, gun fires
Freedom to choose between margarine and butter The choice should be between fingernail clippers and lock cutters A little something for the sweet tooth of chocolate lovers Besides candy rappers reproducing 2Pac
hand down the front of my pants You can't achieve your goals if you don't take that chance So go pry open that trunk and get those amps (You know!) [Chorus x2
scream and go, 2Pac and I ain't stoppin' till I'm well paid Bail's, paid now nigga, look what hell made Visions of cops and sirens, niggas open fire
hop, hip-hop, hip-hop (Come again, break them chains, come on) Hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop (Break them chains, come on) Who shot 2Pac? If we don't get