Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Feel Like Pac / I Feel Like Biggie, artist - DJ Khaled. Date of issue: 31.12.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Cash Money
Song language: English
I Feel Like Pac / I Feel Like Biggie |
| I feel like Pac, I feel like Biggie |
| I’m feeling like these hating niggas waiting to get me |
| I’m losing my sleep, I’m losing my mind |
| You know I go hard when it comes to mine |
| I feel like Pac, Biggie, Pac, Biggie |
| Sucka walk up on me, talking like he know me |
| Ain’t no co defendant do my dirt all by my lonely |
| Down south nigga, talking jam pony |
| Rest in Peace to Uncle Al he showed me my first Rollie |
| Bitches want to know me, haters want to show me |
| But I’m so vicious double m worth eighty tickets |
| Cop just pulled me over, caught up in this thing |
| Take my case to trial, my juror Paula Deen |
| I know they hate a nigga but he’s such a major nigga |
| Tell the clip the .40 when C.I.A. |
| with us |
| 305 them killas, Ricky Ross the richest |
| Bel- Air on my table, I talk it then I live it |
| All of you starve and I eat fast |
| Moussain when I creep past |
| Blacked out I max out with the same same watch on me chain |
| We killing niggas no repass my momma got like 3 Jags |
| You talkin' bout how you ball nigga we really gettin' that street cash |
| Say old money, new work |
| Smell the caine on my new shirt |
| My old g said strap up and don’t lay your head where you do dirt |
| And my momma said do school work |
| I was making that tool work |
| And niggas wanted me dead with a whole lot on my head |
| Man they hit Big in the passenger, hit Pac in the passenger |
| So I’m riding round with this Mac on me |
| And a bunch of shooters in back of us |
| Roll up and you a dead man |
| Head shot when we clapped ya |
| We sellin niggas to the murk em man, and I ain’t talkin' bout Erica |
| Feel like it’s me against the world |
| Bury me a g |
| My middle finger to the world |
| I’m gon' forever be a g |
| Pussy nigga want a witness stay armed no Biggie |
| When we get busy no alarms just semis |
| We pour out a lil liquor throw it like straight ballers |
| We cradle to the grave ride when my homie call |
| Give a damn if you me West P |
| When somebody gotta die, we gon' march to the steps |
| They said Brenda had a baby but she left it in the alley |
| One shot that playa hater now we going back to Cali |
| Hit the time nigga I got a story to tell |
| My ambitions as a rider got me ready to die |
| And when we ride on no more paint we go hard as shit |
| Why you complaining and you wonder why we call you bitch |
| It’s an every day struggle nigga me and my bitch |
| It’s unbelievable suicide I thought you would get |
| Said fuck me warning and the gun don’t blast |
| Give me the loot sorry nigga one more chance |
| You know this shit don’t stop |
| Keep these sucker under pressure |
| Only god can judge me shawty I ain’t mad at ya |
| Ya nigga can’t see me |
| A paid thug nigga |
| That’s why shawty wanna be me |
| See a kid around around in your town kick in your door |
| I feel like Pac and Biggie love the dough, more than you know |
| Ey yo, how you gon' compare yourself to greatness |
| If you ain’t ready to be great, man? |
| Ain’t no more to it |