|
Unlock ya locks and keep ya keys |
|
The Pac in me got me thinkin' deeply |
|
I got to shock |
|
MC's wit my philosophies' |
|
Cause I think very deeply |
|
Where I come from, where you sweat ya pen up |
|
Young gun representer from the epicenter |
|
The microphone fienin' for a microphone |
|
Before he knew what a microphone mean |
|
Wit them four pounds and they soundin' them off |
|
And them slugs, get them thugs and the ground, get the chalk |
|
Niggaz hearts is dissolvin', involved in |
|
What Fara |
|
Khan and Jim |
|
Brown couldn't solve |
|
I'ma tell you what |
|
I know, what |
|
I knowIt's them boyz in the hood, it's always hard |
|
You come talkin' that trash, they'll pull ya card |
|
Who would have known, that the boy growin' up playin' them cards |
|
Will soon know the music he wrote, it was so true |
|
Who could raise me, after |
|
I been amazed by |
|
DreAnd N.W. |
|
A. and you couldn't pay me |
|
To back the staff for free, |
|
I will believe |
|
It ain't nothin' shady in the aftermath |
|
Perhaps when you unwrappin' the plastic |
|
You respect whatever you hear and ya styles is growin' |
|
Them guys is clonin', them pioneers |
|
Rappers wanna be classic, like they |
|
Clef, Pras, and |
|
WarrenI'ma tell you what |
|
I know, what |
|
I knowElvis was a hero to most, but he never meant shit to me |
|
It's statements like that made me gauge, white, black, hate |
|
To make me say, |
|
I like when they fight back, they |
|
Me and rap, |
|
I vent myself |
|
Leanin' back, not knowin' that |
|
I meant myself |
|
A lesson comin' fast, you dudes better catch it |
|
Whenever the future answers ya questions from the past |
|
And hold that, |
|
I'm spillin' these cold raps' |
|
Cause I am a throwback, you feelin' the soldier |
|
And keep tryin', to keep up wit the kind of guy |
|
That'll play you until they fatally say that the game's over |
|
I'ma tell you what |
|
I know, what |
|
I knowOh my |
|
God, I destroy cities like the |
|
BlobGoin' from city to city, seein' who |
|
I can robGoin' from makin' them poems up, in my garage |
|
Then goin' on major tours wit, me and my squad |
|
Goin' from listenin' to |
|
Reggie, to meeting him |
|
Wit my palms sweaty, to him, telling me |
|
I'm deadly |
|
Goin' from likin', to spray the club after a night |
|
That didn't go my way, to plug a writin' for |
|
DreYou damn right |
|
I was raised, the amazin' handwritin' |
|
On the same page, that you can't type on |
|
So I black out, the usual same way |
|
The old fashion rap, 'til it's no lights on |
|
I'ma tell you what |
|
I know, what |
|
I know |
