2pac - Po n***a Blues (scott Storch Remix) lyrics

Published

0 666 0

2pac - Po n***a Blues (scott Storch Remix) lyrics

(feat. Ron Isley) [Girl] Scott Storch [Hook (Tupac)] Why'd you sland crack? I had to Why'd you sland crack? Cuz I had to Why'd you sland crack? Cuz I had to A n***a gotta pay the f**in bills [Verse 1 (Tupac)] Crazy, I gotta look at what you gave me, claimin I'ma criminal when you the one that made me They got me trapped in this slavery now I'm lost in the holocaust headin for my grave G I told Sam he could f** the war, and got a busted jaw for sayin "f** the law" And if you wonder why I'm mad, check the record Whats a n***a gotta do to get respected Sometimes I think I'm getting tested, and if I don't say "yes" a n***a quick to get arrested That's the reason I stay zestin(??), I keep a vest on my chest incase the cops is getting restless Walkin round ready to light sh** up, because my life is f**ed, some say I'm slightly nuts Buck buck is the sound as I move up, other n***as pay attention when a fool bust They make a n***a be a k**er, I used to be a dealer but they wanted to see whos realer Now them same mother f**as wanna murder me, and I wonder if the lord ever heard of me I need loot, so I'm doin what I do, and don't say sh** until you've walked in my shoes, Theres no other destiny to choose, I had nothing left to lose, so I'm singin the po n***a blues [Hook] [Verse 2 (Tupac)] Coppin these brand new shoes, but what the f** can a n***a do, my little boy gotta eat too So why must I sock a fella? Just live large like rocafella And did you ever stop to think? I'm old enough to go to war but I aint old enough to drink Cops wanna hit me with the book, and you hooked on my "I don't give a f**" look Makin rules, I'ma break em, no matter how much you make em, show me bakin, I'ma take em So don't you ever temp me, I'm a fool for mine n***a, and my pockets stay empty To my brother in the barrio, you livin worse then the n***as in ghetto so I give a f** about your language or complexion, you got love for the n***as in my section You got problems with the punk police, don't run from the chumps, get the pump from me We aint free, I'll be damned if I played a chip for a blonde haired blue eyed Caucasian b**h Down with my home boy rich, f** a snitch and groupie a** b**h And a n***a with a cellular phone, leave his baby at home so he can go out and bone(huh) And you wonder why we blazin n***as, cuz you punks haven babies cant raise the n***as And they damned to be f** ups too, drink 40s of brew, singin the n***a blues [Hook] Why'd you sland crack? Cuz I had to Why'd you sland crack? Cuz I had to Why'd you sland crack? Cuz I had to And now I'm headin for the mother f** in PEN

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.