2pac Album Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z

Artist: 2Pac
Album: Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Holla if You Hear Me
Author: OHHLA.com

Ah yeah...
Uhh
Uhh
Hollar if Ya Hear me

Yeah...

Here we go
Turn it up
Let's start
From block ta block
We're snatchin' hearts
And jackin' marks
And tha punk police can't fade me
And maybe
We can have peace someday 'G'
But right now I got my mind set up
Lookin down tha barrell of my 9
Get up
Cause it's time to make tha pay back phat
To my brothers on tha block--better stay strapped black
And accept no substitutes
I bring truth to tha youth tear tha roof off tha ol' school

Oh no, I won't turn tha other cheek
In case ya can't see us while we burn the other week
Now we gotta make it smash
Blast
How long will it last, till tha broke get more cash
Until then
Raise up!
Tell my young black males
Blaze up!
Lifes a mess don't stress
Test
I'm givin ..[????]
Much love to my brothers in tha pen
See ya when I free ya
If not, when they shut me in
Once again, is there no one else strapped
Keep ya hands on ya gat
Now ya boys watch ya back
Cause in tha alleys of cali i'ma tell ya
Mess with tha best and tha vest couldn't help ya
Scream, if ya feel me
See it clearly? your too near me

Chorus

Hollar if Ya Hear me
Hollar if Ya Hear me
Hollar if Ya Hear me

Pump ya fists like this
Hollar if ya hear me
(pump, pump) if ya pissed
To tha sell-outs livin' it up
One way or another you'll be givin it up
I guess cause i'm black boy
I'm supposed to say 'peace', sing songs, and get capped on
?
But it's time for tha new plan, BAM!
I'll be swingin' like a one man clan
Here we go
Turn it up
Don't stop
To my homies on tha block
Gettin' dropped by cops
I'm still around for ya
Keepin' my sound
Underground for ya
And i'ma throw a changup
Quayle, like you never brought my name up
Now my homies in tha backstreets
Tha blackstreets
They fear me when they rollin in they phat jeeps
This ain't just a rap song
A black song
Tellin all my brothers, get they strap on
And look for me in tha struggle
Hustlin' to tha other brotha's bubble

Chorus

Hollar if Ya Hear me
Hollar if Ya Hear me
Hollar if Ya Hear me

Will I quit, will I quit?
They claimin' that i'm violent
But still I kick
Representin'
Never give up on a good thing
Wouldn't stop it if we could
It's a hood thing
And now i'm like a major threat
'Cause I remind you of the things you were made to forget
Bring tha noise
To all my boyz
Know tha real from tha bustas
And the decoys
And if ya hustle like a real 'G'
Pump ya fists if ya feel me
Hollar if Ya Hear me
Learn to survive in tha nine-tre
I make crime pay
I was in crime pay
Whatever it takes to make a stand
Cause nobody else'l give a damn
So we live like caged beasts
Waitin' for tha day to let tha rage free
Still me, till they kill me
I love it when they fear me
Hollar if Ya Hear me

Chorus

Hollar if Ya Hear me
Hollar if Ya Hear me
Hollar if Ya Hear me

Artist: 2Pac
Album: Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Pac's Theme
Author: OHHLA.com

PAC'S THEME
~Statements variously said throughout song.~

I was raised in this society so there's no way
you can expect me to be a perfect person cuz I'm a do what I'm a do.
(I am still thirsty) - Arrested Development
(There is absolutly no reason for a record like this to be published.
It has no place in our society.) - Dan Quayle
(They gotta understand me)
(Withdraw on this record) - Dan Quayle
That's how I feel I'm a do whatever I like. I am not a role model

Artist: 2Pac
Album: Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Point the Finga
Author: OHHLA.com

You could get the finger
Come and get some!!
The middle.
Aaaww yeah!
They love to point the finger.
Boom!Boom!Boom! on your black ass, bitch.
-Chorus repeats-

I thought I hit rock bottom,
Then my album point the finger.
I guess nobody loves a real nigga-slash-rap singer.
I thought I'd bring a little truth to the young troops.
I brought proof that the niggas need guns too.
It's not to be a racist, but let's face this.
Wouldn't you if we could trace places.
I got lynch spots from the cops.
And till this day, the same motha fucka on the beats gettin major pay.
But whenI get my techa-techa techs out.
So, we prayin for these pigs to knock the blacks out.
Ain't that a bitch.
Some officers'll get rich.
Whoopin on thugs and robbin drug dealers for their shit.
As far as jealousy, being a celebrity,
No matter who committed the crime, they all yell at me.
And the media is greedier than most.
You could sell em your soul and they'll be on ya till a nigga's a ghost.
And everyday I read the paper, there's another lie.
They show my picture for the crimes of another guy.
Now how's that for the life of a big shot.
A dead cop, a law suit, a little kid shot.
I play them funky ass marks in the park
By tryin to earn their stripes in the dark.
Just cuz I come here, don't mean I from here.
Peep.
Only jealous motha fucka beef.
Point the finger.

-Chorus repeats-

As I run up on a mad man, a nut case with a screw loose.
A zoot troupe full of foolies with toolies.
Niggas run to me.
Don't come to me with beef.
Take your jewels and your jeep.
Boom! Boom!, let that ass sleep.
It's gettin hectic.
Niggas run quick.
Buckshots are the payback for dumb shit.
All you niggas on the block tryin to test me,
Best wear a vest so I could open like I'm sesame.
I'll run up on your man deep.
While your tryin to sleep, I'm steady pumpin bullets in your sheets.
Wake up.
Motha fucka, don't stutter.
Point blank by a nigga from the gutter.
Yeah.
Give me mine, give me mine, give me mine.
Made my rhyms, now I'm back here bustin 9's.
And brothas can't get none. Hell no.
A quick fury and he's bury with a swell jaw.
I came in from the amateaurs to pro hits.
And 5-0, so you know I take no shit.
And everybody wants to kill a bringer.
I'm bad news so they choose,
To point the finger.

-Chorus repeats-

1,2,3.
Peace to the real Gs.
Stay mean till these motha fuckas kill me.
I bring skills and I been killin wills.
Smokin sess till I'm ill.
Still feel me?
I say 1,2,3.
Peace to the real Gs.
Still mean till these motha fuckas kill me.
Pick it up, pick it up, give it up.
Best to duck or get fucked for bucks.
Scream 1,2,3.
Peace to the real Gs.
Still mean till these motha fuckas kill me.
I can't give up.
It's a rap thang.
And I ain't goin back to the crack game.
You can do it son.
Be a man and stand up or run.
Bitches, let em point the finger.
You can do it son.
Be a man and stand up or run.
Snitches, let em point the finger.
Yo, 1,2,3.
Peace to the real Gs.
Still mean till these motha fuckas kill me.
I guess nobody loves a rap singer.
That's why these motha fuckas point the finger.

Artist: 2Pac
Album: Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Something 2 Die 4
Author: OHHLA.com

(laughter echoed)

I've changed...
You mothafuckas kill me
I've changed...

It ain't that i've changed
But it's strange how you mothafuckas rearrange
When I found fame
Point ya finger at tha bad guy

You know what my momma usta tell me
If ya can't find something ta live 4

Then you BEST, find something ta die 4

(eazy saying 'if there's hell below, we're all gonna
go'--this is all through out tha interlude)

Deep deep

La'tasha Hardings
Remember that name...
Cause a bottle of juice...
Ain't something 2 die 4

Young Quaid
Remember that name...
Cause all you mothafuckas
That go to your grave with that name on your brain
Cause jelousy and recklousness
Is NOT, something 2 die 4

All you Niggas out there
(echoed laughter)
Got a crack that crumbles
When I say all you Niggas (all you niggas)
Unite
One nigga, teach 2 niggas
4 niggas teach more niggas
All tha poor niggas
Tha penn niggas
Tha rich niggas
Tha strong niggas
UNITE

There's more of us than there is of them
Look around...
Check your strip

Deep deep

That's something 2 die 4

Black

Artist: 2Pac f/ Ice Cube, Ice-T
Album: Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Last Wordz
Author: OHHLA.com

Ice cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house
the nigga you love to hate
Ice cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house
the nigga you love to hate
Ice cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house
the nigga you love to hate
Ice cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house
the nigga you love to hate

[ICE CUBE]
Yo, here comes the nigga with the ruff, terror
the paranoid, gots to get the boy
Get your steel cuz I feel like a headbanger
Yah, I got a gang of shits, styles guns
my uzzie wieghts a mutha-fuckin' ton
bucking down one, bucking down two,
bucking down your crew, mutha fuck you
Pigs were blue, I where black, nothing but black
Cause god damn its a brand new payback
Fuck Pat Sajak, never did nothing for a nigga
on tha trigga the zigga the zag the nickel the bag
the nigga the sag the forty five mag. got you runnin' like a fag
So, keep your mutha-fuckin' jokes
Cuz, I'm that nigga with a fresh pair of locs
No yokes but smokes
Crakers and them dirty mackers friends aren't jackers
get yah for your drawers, young niggas out to kill for cars

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house
Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house
Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house
Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house
Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house
Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house

[Ice T]
O to the mutha fuckin G I break crazy
a lot of niggas hate me but they can't fade me
Stop me clock me cops wanna glock me
mutha fuck mutha fuck pigs can't stop me
UHH, am I a G, I got proof
Banged in my youth, keep niggas on the roof
with a scope, dough, Cube keep the rope Tupac string a nigga up
[?Hit the mob dope?]
So whats up Punk
You want what I got step to me wrong fuck around and get shot
Your moms crying fuck her bust her
Bitch start screaming to me and I'll dust her
Pops got the LP phat, track on hit
Laid by the mutha fuckin' Bobcat
Ninety three suckas want me to go out
Throw the hoe out, bitch mutha fucker I'm rich

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house
Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house
Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house
Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house
Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house

Got any last wordz

[Tupac]
Now they're after me, why? cuz a niggas black
Sit back
Ain't afraid to pull a triggar back
Let 'em come step to a real mutha-fucker
[Boom, Boom] Mama ain't raised no suckers
Dan Quayle, don't you know you need to get your ass kicked
Where was you when there was niggas in the caskets?
Mutha-fucker rednecks all the same
Feel a real nigga if he ain't balled and chained
That's why we burn shit and wreck
Cause the punk police ain't learned shit yet
You mutha-fuckas gonna pay the price
Can't make a Black life, don't take a Black life
It's on, the next real nigga fall dead
Dred, jheri curl, process, or bald head
Be prepared for the smoke to bust
What niggas need to do is start loc'in up
United we stand divided we fall
They can shoot one nigga
But they can't take us alll
Let's get along with the Mexicans
And we can all have peace on the sets again
Imagine that if it took place [ha ha ha]
Keeping the smile off their white fakes
I ain't racist but lets trade places
Trace the hate 'n face it
One nigga teach two niggas
three teach four niggas
And them niggas teach more niggas
And when we blast
That'll be the biggest blast you've heard
And them is my last wordz

Artist: 2Pac
Album: Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Souljah's Revenge
Author: OHHLA.com

Mr. Shakur, can you please explain the meaning behind your
violent lyrics?

Explain tha meaning?? What tha fuck these niggas talkin
about...

(Sounds of running and sirens in background)

Damn...

Police!! Freeze!!.... I said FREEZE you miserable black
sonova bitch!

My attitude is shitty, my message to tha censorship comity
Who's tha biggest gang of niggas in tha city?

Tha critics are tha cops

Tha courts are tha crooks
Don't look so confused
Take a closer look

Niggas get they necks broke daily
Tryin' ta stay jail free

What tha fuck does Quayle know a young black males...

Please tell me

Message to tha censorship comity
Whos tha biggest gang of niggas in tha city

I pack a 9 milimeter cause I gottem liven hotter than tha
4th of July
If I gotta die, gotta

Momma told me 'Don't lett'em fade me...
Nigga don't lett'em make ya crazy'
Game is what she gave me

Gotta watch your back, strapped
Real niggas laugh back
If you get your ass taxed, swing your gat back
That's not tha way we made it

That's just tha way it is...

So I'm wrong, to spare a niggas kids??

I came up, my message to tha censorship commity
Who's tha biggest gang of niggas in tha city?
Cops pull me over
Check my plates
But i'm legal

Ya couldn't get me, figure 'FUCK with a niggas people'

They got me trapped, gat'd with tha mothafucken hammer back
Cops on my back, just cause i'm black, SNAP

Now i'm guilty?
Message to tha censorship comity
Who's tha biggest gang of niggas in tha city?

All you punk Police will never find peace on tha streets
Till' tha niggas get a piece
FUCK'EM

They kill ya to control ya
Or PAY
Top dollar for ya soul
Real niggas don't fold
Straight souljah

Can't find peace on tha streets til tha niggas get a
piece...
Fuck tha police
And we're screamin fuck'em
Can't find peace on tha streets til tha niggas get a
piece...
Fuck tha police
I hear ya...(fuck'em)
Can't find peace on tha streets til tha niggas get a
piece...
Fuck tha police
I hear ya...(fuck'em)
Can't find peace on tha streets til tha niggas get a
piece...
Fuck tha police
I hear ya...(fuck'em)
Can't find peace on tha streets til tha niggas get a
piece...
Fuck tha police
I hear ya...(fuck'em)
Can't find peace on tha streets til tha niggas get a
piece...
Fuck tha police
I hear ya...(fuck'em)
Can't find peace on tha streets til tha niggas get a
piece...
Fuck tha police
Niggas screamin'...fuck'em

Mothafucken punk police
They think they run tha streets (I hear ya)
There's more niggas than there's police...
(I hear ya...)
One nigga
Teach 2 niggas
Teach 3 niggas
Teach 4 niggas (I hear ya...)
Teach more niggas
We would run this shit...
(I hear ya...)

They finally pulled me over and I laughed,
Remember Rodney King and I blast on his punk ass

[Song continues with this line above, repeated and
scratched upon]

SOULJAH...

Artist: 2Pac f/ Threat
Album: Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Peep Game
Author: OHHLA.com

So what the fuck you talkin about?! Aw, shit.
Goody, goody, gumdrops.
Nigaa, get your hoodie and your gun cocked.
Rock it till the drum stops.
Hip hop.
Even if my shit flip flop
It probably wouldn't stop.
Talk shit and get socked.
How ya hang em?
Know a realer nigga? You could bring him.
If I don't represent the shit,
I'll kick it.
We could sway him.
Huh. As if I know ya.
Then I could show ya.
But if I don't know, I gotta fo' fo' fo' ya.
So, so peep game
At point blank range.
The fame can't change what the game maintains.
Strange. Wind against the grain.
Aw shit. Flick or no flick I trips for no bitch.
Catch up on your pimpin.
I ain't simpin. I'm a dis her.
Couldn't be my sister if she actin like I missed her.
Tell me why they, tell me why they, tell me why they play me.
Don't these niggas know that neiter one of y'all can fade me.
I ain't big, I ain't buff, I ain't deisel.
But fuck wit Tupac and pop goes the weisel.
Me and Threat made a bet on how many fellas
Would jack a motha fuckin real nigga cuz they jealous.
They do it for the fame.
Explain. Insane. What's in a name? What's in a name?
Peep game.

-Chorus repeats-
Punk bitch, how ya like me now?
Can't fuck around wit the funky style.
Put it together like a puzzle builder.
If Trenton don't get cha, pops gon' kill ya.

Killa Cali.
The state where they kill.
Down wit Oaktown? What's up homie, can I chill?
The bitches lookin funny.
Feel em at me. Feel em at me wit they minds on they heaven
Wit they .357.
-Where you at?
*On the freeway, deep in LA.
-OK, see you when get here loc.
*OK.
-Here I am. Here I am.
*Goddamn that was quick.
-Told ya I was comin. Who is that? Is that your woman?
*Na, that's just a hoochie looking for some juice.
-What's up my nigga? What ya know? A nigga got a little bigger.
That's all folks know.
Fat gold ropes.
Gotta keep a low key for my attack.
When I approach, I want the diamonds, the pearls.
The round the way girls.
Cuz baby got, baby got back out this world.
Would you give a fee? Never.
Fly like a feather.
Make more money than your father and your mother put together.
The game is to be sold, not to be told.
So buy it.
Can't afford it?
Low budget hoes gotta brother.
Peep game.

-Chorus repeats-

Don't sell out.
Get the hell out.
Cuz here I come.
Hit em with my bop gun.
They came and they blast.
We got witt they ass.
And oh, pop this vest and all the rest of that mess.
Comin through like Terminater 2.
Boost your crew cuz we ain't afraid of you.
You know what time it is wit me once the clock stike 3.
We goin coo-coo like Cocoa Puffs. Whooo eeii!!!

-Chorus repeats-

Time to get paid, time to get paid. Check.
Time to represent the west. On me: nuttin but a vest.
Got my hands on my glock, eyes on the prize.
First sucka jump, first sucka die.
Gimme mine, gimme mine, gimme mine like I told ya.
Hard as a boulder.
Motha fuckin souja.
Boom bam boom!! It's a stick up.
Vice president Dan Quayle eat a dick up.
Peep game.

-Chorus repeats-

(Spoken by Tupac)
Punk motha fucka.
Fuck all those motha fuckas, they all can eat a motha fuckin dick up.
Word up. Fuck the police. I don't give a fuck.
Bobcat in this motha fucka boy.
Big up! Big up! To the criminals.
Fuck em.

~this is serious business.~

Yeah, microphone mafia.
Tupac, Threat, Bobcat.
93 shot.
Yeah nigga, bitch.

Artist: 2Pac f/ Live Squad
Album: Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Strugglin'
Author: dj.flash@pobox.com

[Eat a dick up]
["Stick up, stick up, stick up kids...
still don't nothin move but the money" -- Rakim]

Verse One: Live Squad

Strugglin, jugglin, got it to the black man
Eatin the scams like I was motherfuckin Pac Man
Cops step off, you know the flavor
They fear the ruffneck niggaz with the lunatic behavior
And now we gotta eat, gotta make ends meet
Stabbin for a fee, it gets hard on the fuckin streets
It's like a madness, fuck making gravy
I rhyme and do crimes, cuz either way pays me
A little rough with a hardcore... theme
Couldn't rough something rougher in your... dreams
Mad rugged so you know we're gonna... rip
With that roughneck nigga named 2Pacalypse
Representing YG'z yo
Flip Stretch Homicide and my nigga Gambino
Seek and Po can't forget Money Bags
Stickin up spots and jumpin in Jags
Gotta get ahead and always stay bumblin
And always keep a hand on the gat
Cuz a niggaz straight strugglin

Verse Two: Live Squad

I used to be on tour, but now I'm sick of strugglin
I thought about bumpin, but mother-fuck jugglin
I know it lasts longer, gets my pockets thicker
But I'd rather use my gun cause I get the money quicker, so bust it
Look as I cut the records hard to eject
A quick clip threw my body down uhh! it's another hit
I got energy to blast now you want the task here
Cuz of the light a motherfucker shot that ass up
But rugged and rough is how I'm steppin
Mac is the weapon, and it's always kept in
Eye on the Mac cause the dogg got it goin on
If you come up steppin you'll be lit like a hick
So you better chill, cause I got too much money to get
A street thug in the motherfuckin house, I'm strugglin
Get drunk but I don't think
I'm just in it for the money, don't be a punk snitch
When I yank up my gun, don't run don't bitch
Cause ya know if you do, you'll be layin in a ditch
You'll get your stupid ass blown out the frame
Cause I'm playing to win, and survive in the game
I'm strugglin

Verse Three: 2Pac

Big up, big up, got him in the frame, bang
Ain't nothin changed set it off I let the brains hang
Guess who's back, to put niggaz on they back
Till I call back, niggaz runnin free better fall back
I'm fifty niggaz deep beat sleep
with a Mossberg wrapped in my seats
three deep in my Jeep chief run with the Young Gunz
Strugglin and strivin, that's how the dough come
Now get gunned by the one with the gun for the low goal
Throw a bolo so low when I flow yo
Much too high to read the signs, I'm blind
Clickin on the nine, out to get mine
I go big up, big up, gotta make the room, boom
Blowin motherfuckers to the moon
Niggaz need to feel me a real G, home from the bumblin
See me on the block, strugglin
And rollin with the roughnecks nuff checks cashed
I get in niggaz ass, blast
Straight strugglin

Artist: 2Pac
Album: Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Guess Who's Back
Author: OHHLA.com

Drop the drums here it comes
Only got two minutes to bounce, and every second counts
Better press, wreck on your tek
Here we go, set passed on Moet
My trickery more slippery when wet
Wicked as I flip, don't trip, get a grip
It'll kick, if the bass lines thick, it's a hit
Everybody's got a mic now, its like a hobby
But more like a job, cause bootleggers trying to rob me
And little man wants to be a rap star
Make papes, hit skins, and drive a phat car
It ain't easy, sleazy, even decieveing
No scheme believeing
No bitter [???]
[???]
Knock a pig to pick
so here's a stick to lick
I shoot to give
till there ain't nothing left
And if I find that the tracks sound def
I catch wreck till I lose my breath
Thats how it goes in the land of broke
I dispose of those, rock shows, and collect my dough
Now I suppose I'm the bad guy, why?
I stay high and try to stay high
Lifes a mess don't stress
test
[? I'm giving, won't think without 'cha living ?] bless
Guess who's back
coming back with the track supply
With Special Ed and Ak, coming right and attack
I'm fighting back, now snap, where they at
When its time to go to combat
Guess who's back

Yes I'm back
Tupac is back (4x)

Drop the drums here it comes
Only got one minute to bounce, and every second counts
I went from hustlin' big, to makin' hits
While some tricks
I'm sure to be rich for ninety-six
I pull my 'capes, on tapes to make
Lets trace the base, to the tape
With the badest bass to date
I try to shake it, but the pace is hard to break
Thoughts I wait, cause they hate my black take
Yeah, its on, its back in the rap race
But if ya got a black face, its a rat race
I struggle to be rugged and raw dude
Trying to survive in the trials and lawsuits
Everybody wants to test me
WHY ME?
No lie, nothing tried when they try me
Giving up the roughness, justice
I'm a bust as I ripping up enough hits
And Guess who's back
No longer trapped
Cuz, I snapped on the ones that held me back
feeling contact
ride the track
get I grip as I flip
get a licking as I kick
Guess who's back

Yes I'm back
Tupac is back (4x)

Artist: 2Pac
Album: Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.
Song: Representin' 93
Author: OHHLA.com

REPRESENTIN' 93

I got a head, but ain't no screws in it.

Roll up and get swoll up.
Hold up.
How ya gonna play me like a sunkin dunkin donut?
I ain't came a long way to get checked
So give me respect when I get wreck or get your motha fuckin chimp
check.
Once again, it's your friend outta Oakland.
Hoping I rock the shit to get ya open.
Say your looking for some real shit.
Then catch a funkdified batch.
Like that!!
Oakland's on the map.
Tupac is on the big screen strivin.
Gotta love a nigga for survivin.
I wear alot of old schools jewels.
Look how the fools ??. Ooohh.
Stop lookin at me hard cuz your buffer.
But I'll just buck then bigger motha fuckas.
Turnin men to suckas.
Niggas wanna start a little ruckus.
Better duck cuz I'll be poundin them motha fuckas.
They wanna throw their hands up. Thats tight.
Hit em wit my eight. Never had shit left, right.
Then hit em wit the uppercut. Duck quick.
Shit outta luck. Fucked and stuck with that rough shit.
Fuck a pop song, fuck video, fuck Arsenio, fuck the radio.
Do you hear me though?
Give a holla to my niggas in the pen.
And my murderous parteners wit their Mac 10's.
I represent the real cuz I'm ill, G.
Glock cocked and then they kill me.
I'm representin'.

Peace to Redman, Tretch, Vin Rock, K-G the great one
Mary J. Blidge, Pete Rock and sure you're late son.
Heavy D, CL Smooth, and Queen Latifah.
Too Short, Tony Toni Tone,
And the Special motha fucka, Ed Lover, the Tribe, A Tribe Called Quest,
and
Jungle Brothas. Das Efx, EPMD, and Ice Cube.
House of Pain: fuck these ? ass white dudes.
Cypress Hill, yeah, the ill niggas.
Digital Underground: my real niggas.
Raw Fusion, all in house confusion.
Wickeder than most men: Spice 1 and Pooh Man.
TLC, Eric B rockin, then Scarface.
Stretch, Mad K-Low, pumpin the scars bass.
Thorough Heads, Poonannynans, the Click.
Mmmm. ???, Richie Rich.
Young Guns in the house pumpin the flava.
DJ Ditch for their behavior.
Off the head, my freestyle flow.
Just a couple of motha fuckas that I know.
I'm strictly representin

1 motha fucka, 2 motha fucka, 3 motha fuckas,
Damn, who did I forget?

I'm a soulja.
Daddy was a soulja.
Strong in the struggle.
Must contend so it's on.
Raised in a house full of bad motha fuckas.
Mad motha fuckas.
Never had so we grab from the stacked motha fuckas.
Now they know me, the homies.
Raised by some crazed ass well payed OG's.
Ah shit!
Pulled up in a benzy, snatch.
The wheel as I peel out. Catch a cop's tail.
Rock shells hit. Raise a fist so they know to make a hit.
Can I flip it? I may get wicked as I rip it.
To get specific: If the shoe fits, then kick it.
It's for the gifted. Pump your fist if you wit it.
Here's your ticket to see Mr. Wicked rip shit.
Now they wanna maime me.
(Told ya)
All I wanted to be was a soulja.
Bang bang boogy it's stick up.
Quit now nigga, eat a dick up.
I