Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song F*** Em All , by - 2Pac. Release date: 31.12.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
F*** Em All |
| You a what? |
| Bad Boy Killaz |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Hahaha, yeah, nigga, fuck 'em all! |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Fuck all you muthafuckers! |
| Ayo, Biggie, put your hands up! |
| Now, I can make it happen |
| My rappin' is similar to mothafuckers when they scrappin' |
| Blast and watch 'em back up |
| Notorious Biggie killer, affiliation with Death Row |
| Niggas get their caps peeled back, fool, this the West Coast |
| Bitch, you misdemeanor, I’m raisin' hell like felonies |
| Mr. Makaveli straight outta jail to sellin' these |
| Intoxicated, we duplicated but never faded |
| Now that we made it my adversaries is player hatin' |
| Got a Mercedes for these tricks, that thought I quit |
| Then got a drop top Jag for these bitches that’s on my dick |
| Go to a club in a pack, I’m smokin' bud in the back |
| I wait for niggas to trip ‘cause, bitch, I love to scrap |
| Mama raised me as a thug nigga, with love niggas |
| I’m a millionaire started as a drug dealer |
| I went from rocks to zines, writin' raps and movies |
| I went from trustin' these tricks |
| Now they all want to sue me, so fuck 'em all! |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Come put your hands up in the air! |
| It’s a middle finger affair, yeah |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Now, could you picture my criminal status at its fuckin' peak? |
| Even the baddest be gettin' murdered in they seats |
| I’m addicted to these streets, like crack is to these creeps |
| Seein' visions of a prison, wake up screamin' in my sleep |
| Is there a heaven in this hell? |
| A possibility of livin' well? |
| But if they killin' me, I get my stripes and whose to tell |
| Choosin' to sell, I’d rather die and be deceased |
| World mob figure addicted to these fuckin' streets |
| Now, put your muthafuckin' hands up if you’s a rider (Ride) |
| Niggas ain’t killers so they hidin' (Why?) |
| Fuck 'em all, touch 'em all; |
| that’s the way that we do it |
| Ride up, hop the fuck out, watch that bitch nigga lose it |
| Man, I’m as strong as this game, ya’ll be knowin' my name |
| A young high strung thug nigga created by pain |
| Livin' my life in the fast lane, gettin' fucked by the past |
| Got my mind on my cash |
| And my next piece of ass, so fuck 'em all! |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Come put your hands up in the air! |
| It’s a middle finger affair, yeah |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| I do my dirt all by my lonely |
| Don’t need no phony homie to call me |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Back off, I hit at everyone of you homies |
| So don’t get comfortable, I’m runnin' you |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Nigga, we Outlaw riders |
| Don’t give a fuck if you love us, we thuggin' |
| I got glad bags with enemies, cut up so they remember me |
| Soaked up in Hennessy, so they relatives know it’s me |
| You can bet your last dollar, I’ll dick 'em and holla |
| Ridin' these hoochies like they some heavy ass Chevy impalas |
| Jump up and get your ass shot up |
| For my profit pick my Glock up |
| I’m bustin' with self-defense, you see |
| Poppin' nobody got 'em, holla |
| Outlaw riders, mash up on the gas pedal |
| Vacate the scene, count the cash and stash the precious metal |
| Here come the coppers, the S.W.A.T. |
| team and the helicopters |
| Them crackers is crazy, why? |
| ‘Cause they’ll never stop us |
| I watched Arnold Schwarzenegger bust somebody in a movie |
| Now I want to do it too, ooh, ooh |
| Niggas is too through, true to the game |
| I claim Outlaw riders, we give a fuck what they try, I’m… |
| ‘Cause Young Noble behind it |
| Can you picture me stickin' niggas for they watch and chain? |
| Kick back, lil' nigga, and watch the game |
| Get your mob rocked and what-not |
| We keep it poppin', like a drug spot |
| The streets know what’s hot, trust me |
| Even my hood call me «baby Malcolm X» |
| With the TEC’s, shower some slugs on 'em |
| I’ve got a brother, don’t rest and he keeps some drugs on him |
| Always in grind mood, hustle to find food |
| Ever seen Faces of Death? |
| That’s what my 9 do |
| I keep my mind on my money, and my money on my mind |
| With my back against the wall, like I’m runnin' outta time |
| Even rap with a gat, I must be goin' out my mind |
| Like I’m up against the world, this guerilla team of mine |
| Screamin', «Thug Life, bitch, fuck 'em all!» |
| and die for 'em |
| Even if the last nigga left I’ma ride for 'em |
| Feel me? |
| Until they kill me, that’s how I’m rollin' |
| «Fuck 'em all, let them die!» |
| — that’s my slogan; |
| fuck 'em all! |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Come put your hands up in the air! |
| It’s a middle finger affair, yeah |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| I do my dirt all by my lonely |
| Don’t need no phony homie to call me |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Back off, I hit at everyone of you homies |
| So don’t get comfortable, I’m runnin' you |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| Nigga, we Outlaw riders |
| Don’t give a fuck if you love us, we thuggin' |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |
| (That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all!) |