Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
2Pac
2Pac
Vocals
Threat
Threat
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bobby "Bobcat" Ervin
Bobby "Bobcat" Ervin
Songwriter
Corey Lloyd
Corey Lloyd
Songwriter
Curtis Mayfield
Curtis Mayfield
Songwriter
Tupac Amaru Shakur
Tupac Amaru Shakur
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bobby "Bobcat" Ervin
Bobby "Bobcat" Ervin
Producer
Bob Morse
Bob Morse
Mixing Engineer
Darrin Harris
Darrin Harris
Recording Engineer
Mike Calderon
Mike Calderon
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

So what the fuck you talking about? Goody, goody, gumdrops, nigga, get your hoodie An' your gun cocked, rock it 'til the drum stops Hip hop, even if my shit flip flop An' it probably wouldn't stop, talk shit an' get socked How ya hang 'em? Know a realer, nigga? You could bring him If I don't represent the shit, I'll kick it, we could sway him As if I know ya, then I could show ya But if I don't know, I got a fo'-fo' fo' ya So, so peep game at point blank range The fame can't change what the game maintains Strange, wind against the grain Aw, shit, flick or no flick, I tricks for no bitch Catch up on your pimpin', I ain't simpin', I'ma dis her Couldn't be my sister if she actin' like I missed her Tell me why they, tell me why they, tell me why they play me? Don't these niggas know that neither one of y'all can flay me? I ain't big, I ain't buff, I ain't Diesel But fuck wit Tupac an' pop goes the weasel Me an' Threat made a bet on how many fellas Would jack a mothafuckin' real nigga 'coz they jealous They do it for the fame, explain, insane What's in a name, what's in a name? Peep game Punk bitch, how ya like me now? Can't fuck around with the funky style Put it together like a puzzle builder If Trenton don't getcha, Pops gon' kill ya Killa Cali, the state where they kill Down wit Oaktown? What's up homie, can I chill? The bitches lookin' funny, feel 'em at me, feel 'em at me With they minds on they Heaven, wit they 3 5 7 Where you at? On the freeway, deep in LA Okay, see you when get here, loc, okay Here I am, here I am, goddamn, that was quick Told ya I was comin', who is that? Is that your woman? Na, that's just a hooch lookin' for some juice What's up my nigga? What ya know, a nigga got a little bigger That's all folks know, fat gold ropes Gotta keep a low key for my attack when I approach I want the diamonds, the pearls, the round the way girls 'Coz baby got, baby got backs out this world Would you give a fee? Never, fly like a feather Make more money than your father an' your momma put together The game is to be sold, not to be told So buy it, can't afford it? Low budget hoes gotta brother, peep game Punk bitch, how ya like me now? Can't fuck around wit the funky style Put it together like a puzzle builder If Trenton don't getcha, Pops gon' kill ya Don't sell out, get the hell out 'Coz here I come, hit 'em with my bop gun They came an' they blast, we got wit they ass An' oh, pop this vest an' all the rest of that mess Comin' through like Terminator 2 Bruise your crew 'coz we ain't afraid of you You know what time it is wit me once the clock strike 3 They go for coo coo like Cocoa Puffs, ooh, wee Punk bitch, how ya like me now? Can't fuck around wit the funky style Put it together like a puzzle builder If Trenton don't getcha, Pops gon' kill ya Time to get paid, time to get paid, check Time to represent the West, on me, nothin' but a vest Got my hands on my glock, eyes on the prize First sucka jump, first sucka die Gimme mine, gimme mine, gimme mine like I told ya Hard as a boulder, mothafuckin' soldier Boom bam boom, it's a stick up Vice President Dan Quayle eat a dick up, peep game Punk bitch, how ya like me now? Can't fuck around wit the funky style Put it together like a puzzle builder If Trenton don't getcha, Pops gon' kill ya Punk bitch, how ya like me now? Can't fuck around wit the funky style Put it together like a puzzle builder If Trenton don't getcha, Pops gon' kill ya Punk bitch, fuck all those mothafuckas They all can eat a mothafuckin' dick up Word up, fuck the police, I don't give a fuck Bobcat in this mothafucka, boy Big up, big up to the criminals, fuck 'em This is serious business, yeah, Microphone Mafia Tupac, Threat, Bobcat, 93 shot Yeah, nigga, bitch
Writer(s): Tupac Amaru Shakur, Curtis Mayfield, Bobby F. Ervin, Corey D. Lloyd Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out