Hoes got the pick up straight back and no stoppin' And watch out for the bird Cause they just might got the word Who runs to west side got the bitches
feel? Comin up as a nigga in the cash game livin in the fast lane; I'm for real [Verse One: 2Pac] Love the way you activate your hips and push your ass out Got
given, thank God I'm still livin' Pack my nine 'til it's time to go to prison As I'm bailin' down the block where I come from, still gotta pack a gun '
was thirteen I got the king I had a dream to be one of the greatest musicians In life so they remember when I die, I love, I love music It's got me stayin
I die. I love, I love music. It got me staying alive. And if they took my mic right now. One thing they'll never do is take my love away. Cause
frontin' although you say you're not You got your eyes on the watch You love the Pasha, the court in the Cartier is hot Baby, you need somethin', shop You got
Ooo, uh huh, ok) Shorty I'm sure you heard that I really never come out (Never come out) Unless I'm in the M6 doing tricks freeway burnt out (Freeway burnt out) Got
you ain't hustling nigga That track would have been wack if it wasn't for Jigga I'm a ladies man chicks loving a nigga But I'll still put a slug in a
Sometimes I dream of a world without war People laughing in the sun And a world without love ain't no place to live Yet, we're still living but the gun
, I got Mexico Through it all nothings really changed no matter what honey that's a shame I still love you that's the way it goes He's got you, I've got
U R U P T and the D A Z Well, a you know how we treat ho's Slammin' on they back like Dominoes On how I don't love love a bitch while a bitch still shit
m at the bar with her (Ooh, uh huh, okay) Shorty, I'm sure you heard that I rarely ever come out Unless I'm in the M6 doin' tricks, freeway burnt out Got
got all Turned around on last freeway Now I can't find my way home to you, oh girl Still I get love in the hood Still acting like my life is all good Still
baby I'm the shit And everything I flip, you know it's somethin' serious I got the custom grill, I got the Bravis rims I got the baller genetics baby
Oh Everywhere I go I Dress up and I go out I got lots of gwalla, let me show you how I show out Everywhere I go I Dress up and I go out I got lots of
Slim, I wrote you, but you still ain't callin'. I left my cell, my pager, and my home phone at the bottom. I sent two letters back in autumn; you must not-a got
stand up here and sing what I believe Then I close my eyes and fold my hands Thank God I've got a girl that understands And loves the gypsy in me Repeat
