Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Thug Style, artist - 2Pac.
Date of issue: 31.12.1996
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Thug Style |
that nigga ain’t from muhfuckin’New York |
That nigga be out there with them Cali niggas |
Yo nigga man fuck Pac that nigga West Coast |
that fucker that always with them New York niggas |
seen them with that nigga man that nigga ain’t from the West Coast |
Man fuck Pac fuck that nigga that nigga ain’t really down |
rapin’ass nigga I didn’t do it fuck it with that nigga |
fuck that nigga man fuck that nigga let that nigga go to jail right |
and fuck that nigga fuck that nigga fuck you too nigga |
2Pac (overlapping) |
I’m in this muthafucka |
I guess these muthafuckas tryin’to take me out the business right |
I guess I ain’t East Coast enough for my niggas back in New York |
and I ain’t West Coast for these niggas on the West huh? |
Fuck e’rybody |
Heh heh heh… |
Thug style out this muthafucka niggas throw ya hands in the air |
If you got Jeep make ya speakers pop |
I want muthafucking police trying to pull niggas over on this one |
We taking this one to the whole 'nother level gutter style Thug style |
You feel me, things that we can only do as a real G We ain’t dead yet, feel me! |
I got my Hennessy find ya foes |
in a room full of niggas tryin’to hide ya hoes |
I’m getting high off buddha |
'Cause the times be slow |
I keep my mind on dough |
you never find me broke |
and who meee a nigga livin’life like a G in that artillery keepin’niggas off of me |
I can’t sleep living in these wicked times |
peep, niggas after me 'cause they see I’m stacking G’s and heat |
You can holler if you want to pleeease |
I ain’t runnin’with no punk crew beeee |
enemies and my range is on you’re in the danger zone |
my fuckin’game is strong, Hotline |
You suckas better find ya mind I got mine |
from hustling and busting them rhymes |
to my niggas up in Quentin |
Down on Riker’s Isle stay rile |
But a nigga gotta use his styles |
These, |
Niggas don’t know my style |
quick to smile juvenile |
Was a problem child |
try to put me in the courts |
But my force was wild |
Bitchmade ass niggas don’t know my style |
These, |
Niggas don’t know my style |
quick to smile juvenile |
Was a problem child |
try to put me in the courts |
But my force was wild |
Bitchmade ass niggas don’t know my style |
I could be wrong but I never got along with cops |
it’s like they stuck |
from making niggas duck from Glocks all the time |
my mind’s full of thoughts of ends |
I’m still rolling my bucket but I bought me a Benz (tadow) |
My fake friends say they love me but I know they lie |
cause in the dark see they hearts’full of homicide |
My mama cried when they took me off to jail |
only me inside the cell |
Straight locked up in this hell |
I hear some sucka screaming like the demon’s inside |
will 'em away in the morning |
Only the strong survive |
I cry but in my own way |
Swallow my pride pick a reason to hide |
from all the niggas that die (Rest in Peace) |
cemetary full of brothers I buried |
It’s going down even now I wonder |
will I still be around my hometown is the gutter |
I was born a wild came up out this dust |
with my heartless style |
These, |
I remember Uptown huh got to get to listenin' |
to Mr. Magic cuttin’up the hits |
and even though I had habit makin’words rhyme |
I was caught up in the madness |
Juvenile thugs come on I tell the whole story nothin’but truth |
Halloween throwin’eggs from the project roofs |
and Pete and Lee young G’s |
with a gift of gab and tryin’to hook up with the hookers |
who was quick to stab remember mama’s cooking |
No school straight hookin' |
and tryin’to get with light skinned |
cause she good looking |
And jumpin’over turnstiles 'cause we ain’t paying |
call the cuties cuss words but we only playing (biotch) |
I’m prayin’I can get a buck no luck |
I had to move around a lot |
'cause my moms was stuck |
I had family but I was way too wild |
had to move to the West to regain my style |
These, |
Chorus 'til end with ad libs |