2Pac, 50 Cent - The Realist Killaz lyrics

50 Cent [Curtis James Jackson III]

[2Pac, 50 Cent - The Realist Killaz lyrics]

Gunshot

Yo, Red Spyda (ooh-wee) is that 50 Cent
Pac joint ready?
Gun cocking Let me know, holla Gunshot

There's gon' be some stuff you gon' see
That's gon' make it hard to
Smile in the future

Yeah nigga! Haha
Let's go nigga, this is what it is
2Pac cut his head bald
Then you wanna cut yo' head bald
(You pussy nigga) 2Pac wear a bandanna
You wan' wear a bandanna
(What do we have here now?)
2Pac put a cross on his back
You wanna put crosses on yo' back
Nigga you ain't 2Pac - This 2Pac!



Is it, money or women to funny beginnings
Tragic endings
I can make a million and STILL
Not get enough of spending
And since my life is based on sinning
I'm hell-bound
Rather be buried than be worried
Living held down my game plan to be trained
Military mind of a thug lord
Sittin' in the cemetery cryin'
I've been lost since my adolescence
Calling to Jesus balling as a youngster
Wondering if he sees us young black male
Crack sales got me three strikes
Living in jail, this is hell, enemies die
Wonder when we all pass is anybody listening?
Got my, hands on my semi-shotty
Everybody's pissin'
Please God can you understand me
Bless my family
Guide us all, before we fall into insanity
I make it a point
To make my beat bumpin' warlike
Drop some shit
To have these stupid bitches jaws tight

'Till Makaveli returns, it's "All Eyez On Me"
(What do we have here NOW?)
And you can hate it or love it
But that's what it's gon' be
You should've listened
I told you not to fuck with me
(What do we have here NOW?)
Now can you take the pressure
That's what we gon' see


Now since you're crying for mercy I promise
My success'll be the death of you
Lo and behold you sold your soul
Nigga there's nothin' left of you
Look in the mirror, ask yourself who are you?
If you don't know who you are
How could your dreams come true?
Motherfucker, I sat back and watched
You pretended to be 'Pac
You pretended to be hot
But you're not (now) - I see it so clear
You can't take the pressure, you pussy
I warned you not to push me
You see me and chills run up your spine
God made men the same boy
But your heart ain't like mine
Press, they look at me like I'm a menace
I was playing with guns
While your momma had your
Punk-ass playing tennis
I'm a nightmare, you see me when you dream
Wake up, turn on your TV and see my ass again
You cowardly hearted
You couldn't make it on your own
Fuck The Source
I'm on cover of Rolling Stone ha ha haha
(You pussy)

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