Christian Ac3, 2Pac - No Scope (Feat. Tupac) lyrics
[Christian Ac3, 2Pac - No Scope Feat. Tupac lyrics]
No doubt they jealous of a nigga's clout
Tell me Lord can Ya feel me?
I keep my finger on the trigger
'cause some nigga tried to kill me
And mama raised a hellraiser
Everyday gettin' paid, police on my pager
Straight stressin', a fugitive my occupation
Is under question, wanted for investigation
And even though I'm marked for death
Ima spark 'til I lose my breath
Motherfuckers!
I may be all for death
But I swear I’ll be the last one left even
If I gotta sell my soul to do it
And you can bet that I will
Even when I lie still
I’ll kill anyone who dares to stand in my way
Vibrø til my dying day you
Know the jealous of
My clout when they shout to get me out
But it’s in vain cuz I stay in the game
Until I get the recognition
I’ve always wanted
I’ll hop on a track and gun it like eazy-e
Kanye kinda controversial and nothing haters
Say is hateful Ohh!
Your ya own man dog nothing
They say can hurt you
The game has changed since Tupac
Went to Cuba on us
All the fake ones tryna wrong us
That’s why you gotta stick wit the
Real one tryna reach millions
Tryna make a meal huh?
But I’m not NF, but When I Grow Up
I’ll be a Rapper, and become an adapter
But you know what like kinda computer iM
Going to be the
One making this crackers cry on this mic
And I'll be Right! And I'll Never Fight!
No doubt they jealous of a nigga's clout
Tell me Lord can ya feel me?
I keep my finger on the trigger
'cause some nigga tried to kill me
And mama raised a hellraiser
Everyday gettin' paid, police on my pager
Straight stressin', a fugitive my occupation
Is under question, wanted for investigation
And even though I'm marked for death
Ima spark 'til I lose my breath
Motherfuckers!
Tell me Lord can Ya feel me?
I keep my finger on the trigger
'cause some nigga tried to kill me
And mama raised a hellraiser
Everyday gettin' paid, police on my pager
Straight stressin', a fugitive my occupation
Is under question, wanted for investigation
And even though I'm marked for death
Ima spark 'til I lose my breath
Motherfuckers!
I may be all for death
But I swear I’ll be the last one left even
If I gotta sell my soul to do it
And you can bet that I will
Even when I lie still
I’ll kill anyone who dares to stand in my way
Vibrø til my dying day you
Know the jealous of
My clout when they shout to get me out
But it’s in vain cuz I stay in the game
Until I get the recognition
I’ve always wanted
I’ll hop on a track and gun it like eazy-e
Kanye kinda controversial and nothing haters
Say is hateful Ohh!
Your ya own man dog nothing
They say can hurt you
The game has changed since Tupac
Went to Cuba on us
All the fake ones tryna wrong us
That’s why you gotta stick wit the
Real one tryna reach millions
Tryna make a meal huh?
But I’m not NF, but When I Grow Up
I’ll be a Rapper, and become an adapter
But you know what like kinda computer iM
Going to be the
One making this crackers cry on this mic
And I'll be Right! And I'll Never Fight!
No doubt they jealous of a nigga's clout
Tell me Lord can ya feel me?
I keep my finger on the trigger
'cause some nigga tried to kill me
And mama raised a hellraiser
Everyday gettin' paid, police on my pager
Straight stressin', a fugitive my occupation
Is under question, wanted for investigation
And even though I'm marked for death
Ima spark 'til I lose my breath
Motherfuckers!