| Yeah… Yeah…
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| Flint-Town, Dayton Family, I.D., Killafornia,
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| Ras Kass, yeah… yeah… For all the Sophisticated Thugs
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| yeah, for all the Sophisticated Thugs…
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| We gonna dedicate this to y’all
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| In the memory of my homeboy Pac, like this (rest in peace)
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| (Ras Kass)
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| A young nigga gotta keep the rims chrome
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| That’s why my arteries pump brimstones
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| disappear after breaking your chin bone
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| ready to flip ten songs
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| I might make sense known
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| Feet I tear it from ya like bedrock to a flintstone
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| Flint-Town, Michigan, who roll up in this bitch again
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| Rollin like Bentleys on Michelins
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| You said life ain’t shit but bitches and money
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| Chronic and henne, taxes and tombstones
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| And slayin yahoes with killaz on the payroll
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| But anyway though, if we did sell drugs
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| We sophisticated thugs
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| Keep prepaid cells
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| So the feds can’t bug
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| Ras Kass, I.D., Dayton Family
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| Scared niggaz don’t cry
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| Cause we all gonna die
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| Spice boy niggaz get wesson
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| Cause they all gonna fry
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| Open up some projects in Hell they need more room
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| Cause most of y’all bitch niggaz is coming there soon (what) |
| (Chorus: Bootleg)
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| I don’t give a fuck if you blood or cuz
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| Long as you got love for thugs (Sophisticated Thug Niggaz)
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| I don’t give a fuck if you blood or cuz
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| Long as you got love for thugs (Sophisticated Thug Niggaz)
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| I don’t give a fuck if you blood or cuz
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| Long as you got love for thugs (We Sophisticated Thug Niggaz)
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| I don’t give a fuck if you blood or cuz
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| Long as you got love for thugs
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| (Bootleg)
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| All Eyez On Me
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| Holla Thug life on BET
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| Gave the whole world the finger on MTV
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| Tupac Shakur, he was born to be a renegade
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| A product of the streets
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| Now look at what our streets done made
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| And took away all in the course of a day
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| Frivolous beef got me lookin the other way
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| You used to say that you was never afraid to die
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| So put a blunt in your casket let you get your dead homiez high
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| A true thug that was born to ride
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| Say what you say, when he passed away
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| The game died
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| It was you against the world
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| I know that shit was crazy
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| Believe me though, I know the whole world wasn’t against you baby
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| You told sistas to keep they head up and never switch |
| And if you switched, I bet you wonder why they called you bitch
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| Died too soon from unnecessary bullet wounds
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| Now college professors due lectures in their classrooms on your lyricism
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| Damn Pac, I wish you were here so you could hear em'
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| Incredible, Unforgettable, Biggie you was true
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| You’re nobody until somebody kills you
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| Sophisticated Thugs!
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| In the city, where hands get blown
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| Every city I mash through, there’s at least 60 niggaz that’ll blast you
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| Mash you out, Cash, Stash and heat seekin' lies
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| On the day, only on the earth 16 years and already crazy
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| Maybe I’ll get blasted tryin to master perfection
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| Packin weapons, niggaz trippin, when you in the wrong section
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| Flexin muscles we’re tusslin, doin it all for nothin
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| Cause the fight is all over when the pistols get to bustin'
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| But that’s enough, I don’t think noone is listenin'
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| They tryin to make us think it’s cool, the war world that we livin in
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| But so, every memory, and all the game that they kicked it in
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| We really givin in, livin life for the sin and death |
| I bet somebody dies raw for the end of this song
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| That’s the reason why I pray so I can make it back home
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| To be on top so long can’t afford not to succeed
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| But everybody’s killin over clothes, bitches, and weed
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| It’s plain to see, it’s about the money
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| But when they snatch the money we robbin for food like ain’t nothin' funny
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| In 1999, all major leaders have a leader
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| In the ATF, fiendin black people they defeated
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| I said in 1999, all major leaders have a leader
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| In the ATF, fiendin black people they defeated
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| (Bootleg: talking) (woman singing in background)
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| Tupac Shakur, one of the realest thugs ever to pick up a microphone
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| I gives a fuck what anybody else say
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| Fuck what you heard, Fuck where you from
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| East or West coast, I don’t give a fuck
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| I know who was representin' and who moved me when he picked up a mic and
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| spit that shit
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| Tupac mother fuckin' Shakur
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| Died a soldier, lived a soldier
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| From the cradle to the grave, he was thuggin'
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| And I know you bitch ass niggaz feel what I’m sayin
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| Thug |