| So what the fuck you talkin about?! |
| Aw, shit.
|
| Goody, goody, gumdrops.
|
| Nigaa, get your hoodie and your gun cocked.
|
| Rock it till the drum stops.
|
| Hip hop.
|
| Even if my shit flip flop
|
| It probably wouldn’t stop.
|
| Talk shit and get socked.
|
| How ya hang em?
|
| Know a realer nigga? |
| You could bring him.
|
| If I don’t represent the shit,
|
| I’ll kick it.
|
| We could sway him.
|
| Huh. |
| As if I know ya.
|
| Then I could show ya.
|
| But if I don’t know, I gotta fo’fo’fo’ya.
|
| So, so peep game
|
| At point blank range.
|
| The fame can’t change what the game maintains.
|
| Strange.Wind against the grain.
|
| Aw shit. |
| Flick or no flick I trips for no bitch.
|
| Catch up on your pimpin.
|
| I ain’t simpin. |
| I’m a dis her.
|
| Couldn’t be my sister if she actin like I missed her.
|
| Tell me why they, tell me why they, tell me why they play me.
|
| Don’t these niggas know that neiter one of y’all can fade me.
|
| I ain’t big, I ain’t buff, I ain’t deisel.
|
| But fuck wit Tupac and pop goes the weisel.
|
| Me and Threat made a bet on how many fellas
|
| Would jack a motha fuckin real nigga cuz they jealous.
|
| They do it for the fame.
|
| Explain. |
| Insane. |
| What’s in a name? |
| What’s in a name?
|
| Peep game.
|
| -Chorus repeats-
|
| Punk bitch, how ya like me now?
|
| Can’t fuck around wit the funky style.
|
| Put it together like a puzzle builder.
|
| If Trenton don’t get cha, pops gon’kill ya.
|
| Killa Cali.
|
| The state where they kill.
|
| Down wit Oaktown? |
| What’s up homie, can I chill?
|
| The bitches lookin funny.
|
| Feel em at me. |
| Feel em at me wit they minds on they heaven
|
| Wit they .357.
|
| -Where you at?
|
| -OK, see you when get here loc.
|
| -Here I am. |
| Here I am.
|
| -Told ya I was comin. |
| Who is that? |
| Is that your woman?
|
| -What's up my nigga? |
| What ya know? |
| A nigga got a little bigger.
|
| That’s all folks know.
|
| Fat gold ropes.
|
| Gotta keep a low key for my attack.
|
| When I approach, I want the diamonds, the pearls.
|
| The round the way girls.
|
| Cuz baby got, baby got back out this world.
|
| Would you give a fee? |
| Never.
|
| Fly like a feather.
|
| Make more money than your father and your mother put together.
|
| The game is to be sold, not to be told.
|
| So buy it.
|
| Can’t afford it?
|
| Low budget hoes gotta brother.
|
| Peep game.
|
| -Chorus repeats-
|
| Don’t sell out.
|
| Get the hell out.
|
| Cuz here I come.
|
| Hit em with my bop gun.
|
| They came and they blast.
|
| We got witt they ass.
|
| And oh, pop this vest and all the rest of that mess.
|
| Comin through like Terminater 2.
|
| Boost your crew cuz we ain’t afraid of you.
|
| You know what time it is wit me once the clock stike 3.
|
| We goin coo-coo like Cocoa Puffs. |
| Whooo eeii!!!
|
| -Chorus repeats-
|
| Time to get paid, time to get paid. |
| Check.
|
| Time to represent the west. |
| On me: nuttin but a vest.
|
| Got my hands on my glock, eyes on the prize.
|
| First sucka jump, first sucka die.
|
| Gimme mine, gimme mine, gimme mine like I told ya.
|
| Hard as a boulder.
|
| Motha fuckin souja.
|
| Boom bam boom! |
| It’s a stick up.
|
| Vice president Dan Quayle eat a dick up.
|
| Peep game.
|
| -Chorus repeats-
|
| (Spoken by Tupac)
|
| Punk motha fucka.
|
| Fuck all those motha fuckas, they all can eat a motha fuckin dick up.
|
| Word up. |
| Fuck the police. |
| I don’t give a fuck.
|
| Bobcat in this motha fucka boy.
|
| Big up! |
| Big up! |
| To the criminals.
|
| Fuck em.
|
| ~this is serious business.~
|
| Yeah, microphone mafia.
|
| Tupac, Threat, Bobcat.
|
| 93 shot.
|
| Yeah nigga, bitch. |