| Oh, you tink life is yours?
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| Life ain’t na somethin you can rap with
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| Ooh come na ordinary game
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| Da game na somethin you can rap with
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| Me’s a player you know?
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| I do not, play in no game
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| Me just, make money, dollars, everytime seen?
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| Verse One: 2Pac
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| Now how can I explain how this game laced, plus with this fame
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| I got enemies do anything to break me, my attitude changed
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| Got to the point where I was driven, twenty-four/seven
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| Money’s my mission, just a nigga tryin to make a livin
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| These busta tricks don’t want no mail
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| They spendin they riches on skanless bitches
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| who’ll stay petrified in jail
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| It’s hell, plus all the dealers want a meal ticket
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| Jealous-ass bitches, playa-hatin but we still kick it Always keep my eyes on the prize, watch the police
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| Seen so much murder, neighborhoods gettin no sleep
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| But still, I get my money on major, continuously
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| Communicatin through my pager, niggaz know me Don’t have no homies cause they jealous, I hustle solo
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| Cause when I’m broke I got no time for the fellas, listen
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| Ain’t nothin poppin 'bout no work nigga, I ain’t no joke
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| Fuck what they say and get your dough nigga
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| Heavy in the game *1
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| Who da bumba claat him a come try take mine?
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| Oooh, me see you rushin up *1
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| I throw 'im blood claat P.M. |
| to A.M.
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| All, all da bumba come ya take dis ting
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| for ya take dis ting for joke? |
| *2
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| Oh! |
| Dat's right
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| Verse Two: Richie Rich
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| Well lemme shoot some of this how heavy type of shit.
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| Certain niggaz wanna stick to the game, yousea trick to the game
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| Waitin upon your turn, so when will you learn?
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| Ain’t no turns given, niggaz be twistin and takin shit
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| Puttin they sack down, then puttin they mack down
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| Me myself I hustle with finesse yes I’m an Oakland baller
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| Rule number one: check game, and fo’sho’you gon’respect game
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| Be yo’own nigga meanin buy yo’own dope
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| Cause that front shit is punk shit, somethin I never funked with
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| Be true to this game and this game will be true to you
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| That’s real shit; |
| disrespect, see what this here do to you
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| That jackin and robbin, despisin your homie
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| ain’t healthy, niggaz be endin up dead 'fore they get wealthy
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| But not me though, I’m sewin somethin major
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| so what I reap is boss -- that’s why my public status is floss
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| Went from a, young nigga livin residential
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| to a, young nigga workin presidential *1
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| Me nigga Tu-pac ALWAYS look good
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| You know that’s true 'im look good every time
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| Ooh, pussy war? |
| Step up *1
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| Can yi know I’m servin up blood claat
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| playin yi fuckin games
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| Ooh, we take game, we WON *2
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| Any by now, all, yi haffa forget fi we WON
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| Everytime
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| Verse Three: 2Pac
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| I’m just a young black male, cursed since my birth
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| Had to turn to crack sales, if worse come to worse
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| Headed for them packed, jails, or maybe it’s a hearse
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| My only way to stack mail, is out here doin dirt
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| Made my decisions do or die, been hustlin since junior high
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| No time for askin why, gettin high, gettin mine
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| Put away my nine, cause these times call for four-five sales
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| cause life is hell and everybody dies
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| What about these niggaz I despise -- them loud talkin cowards
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| shootin guns into crowds, jeapordizin lives
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| Shoot em right between them niggaz eyes, it’s time to realize
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| follow the rules or follow them fools that die
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| Everybody’s tryin to make the news, niggaz confused
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| Quit tryin to be an O.G. |
| and pay your dues
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| If you choose to apply yourself, go with the grain
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| and come the riches and the bitches and the fame
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| Heavy in the game *1
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| Boy, ya nah bitch!
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| Major that’s true we look good everytime
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| when we at Beers Diamond
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| and Tupac drives vintage car *1
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| And fi dem frame dem look good, oh no?
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| This whole world ya call on gonna mass on a face *2
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| For any, section of bumba ras claat, oh!
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| Flush it!. |
| Oh!
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| Nobody wan come test me y’know
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| true dem we a drive pretty car
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| Wanna no part of any ting
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| and now you wan come drown a gun
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| But ya see we know, you haffa show 'im MAXIMUM respect
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| for when a blood claat run or when a pussy walk up we look good everytime
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| Nuff dollars, DOLLARS
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| Y’know about dollars dem right?
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| But we nah talk no shit
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| We haffa walk de walk for we a talk, see it?
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| Cause action, action speak louder dan words
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| You know da record!
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| Don’t blood claat ting at ALL |