| I take a shot of Henessey now I’m strong enough to face the madness
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| Nickel bag full of sess weed laced with hash
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| Phone calls from my niggaz on the, other side
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| Two childhood friends just died, I couldn’t cry
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| A damn shame, when will we ever change
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| And what remains from a twelve gauge to the brain
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| Arguements with my Boo is true
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| I spend mo’time with my niggaz than I do with you
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| But everywhere it’s the same thang, that’s the game
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| I’ll be damned if a thang changed, fuck the fame
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| I’ll be hustling to make a mill-ion, lord knows
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| Ain’t no love for us ghetto children, so we cold
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| Rag top slowin down, time to stop for gas
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| Beep my horn for a hoochie with a proper ass, uhh
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| It ain’t easy, that’s my motto
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| Drinkin Tanqueray straight out the bottle
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| Everybody wanna know if I’m insane
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| My baby mama gotta mind full of silly games
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| And all the drama got me stressin like I’m hopeless, I can’t cope
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| Me and the homies smokin roaches, cause we broke
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| Late night hangin out til the sunrise gettin high
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| Watchin the cops roll by It ain’t easy… that’s right
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| Chorus: 2Pac
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| It ain’t easy, being me Will I see the penitentiary, or will I stay free
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| Verse Two: 2Pac
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| I can’t sleep niggaz plottin on to kill me while I’m dreamin
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| Wake up sweaty and screamin, cause I can hear them suckers schemin
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| Probably paranoid, problem is, them punks be fantasizin
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| A brother bite the bullet, open fire and I died
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| I wonder why this the way it is, even now
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| Lookin out for these killer kids, cause they wild
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| Bill Clinton can you recognize a nigga representin
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| Doin twenty to life in San Quentin
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| Gettin calls from my nigga Mike Tyson, ain’t nuttin nice
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| Yo 'Pac, do something righteous witcha life
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| And even thou you innocent you still a nigga, so they figure
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| Rather have you behind bars than triggers
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| But I’m hold ya down and holla Thug Life, lickin shots
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| Til I see my niggaz free on the block
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| But no it ain’t easy, hahahah
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| Til I see my niggaz free, on the block, oh It ain’t easy
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| Verse Three: 2Pac
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| Lately been reminiscin
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| bout Peppermint Schnapps in Junior High hit the block
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| Keep an eye on the cops while D-Boys slang rocks
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| It’s the project kid without a conscience, I’m havin dreams
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| of hearin screams at my concerts, me all my childhood peers
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| through the years tryin to stack a little green
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| I was only seventeen, when I started servin fiends
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| And I wish there was another way to stack a dollar
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| So my apoli', casue these hard times make me wanna holler
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| Will I live to see tommorrow, am I fallin off?
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| I hit the weed and then proceed to say fuck all of y’all
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| Ain’t nobody down with me I’m thuggin, I can’t go home
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| Cause muh-fuckers think I’m buggin, so now I’m in this high powered cell at the county jail
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| Punk judge got a grudge, can’t post no bail, what
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| do I do in these county blues
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| Gettin battered and bruised by the you know who
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| And these fakes get to shakin when they face me Snakes ain’t got enough nuts to replace me Sittin in this, livin hell, listenin to niggaz yell
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| Tryin to torture em to tell, I’m gettin mail
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| But ain’t nobody sayin much, the same old nuts
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| is makin bucks while these sluts is gettin fucked
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| They violated my probation, and it seems
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| I’ll be goin on a long vacation, meanwhile
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| It ain’t easy
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| No it ain’t easy |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song It Ain't Easy , by - 2Pac. Song from the album Me Against The World, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп