Kunci: A minor
Verse 1
F#m
C#m
F#m
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I know 'Pac woulda
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loved this one here
[Chorus:
This gangsta livin', weavin' dope dealin',
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oh how it's changed
It's gettin' strange, and dangerous,
C#m
but that's the way shit goes
Verse 2
This nigga needs no introductions
I'm on this book, and I'm stuck,
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I'm really the wrong one to fuck wit
See T- Double known
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for startin' problems but
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C#m
K- cutter be the problem solver, if I
Sell you a book nigga stick it
'Cause for every you check you slippin'
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they can call me Flipper
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I only I missed a few niggaz (uh- huh)
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But he lost a couple more vis-
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a kidney and his liver
Had to tell him mind me a nigga
I was like uh- huh, click click,
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see'mere, don't run nigga
C#m
All I want to know is
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Where yo' connect, where the sack,
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where the money where the blow is
I heard Papi got them freighters
Now either he gon', give 'em to me,
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or a nigga gon' take 'em
C#m
The dope game's just too overrated
F#m
C#m
And to tell why'all the truth a lot of
why'all ain't gon' make it
Done went from crack slingers
to R&B singers
Before the mic's on,
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you was already singin
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It's just a song was a big hit
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He named me and his bitch on the
Verse 3
C#m
[Chorus: Repeat 2X]
Verse 4
F#m
C#m
And to hell with bein' a man about it
Shit they got fo' niggaz and one gun,
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Somebody better tell 'em
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And put him up on {?} somebody
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fuck around and kill him
You see cause snitches get stitches
And there ain't that much of a difference
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between tellin' and snitchin'
And I ain't gon' keep on talkin'
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I'm gon' walk right up to you niggaz and go
And I ain't leavin' no witnesses
And don't get drunk and confess
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to none of why'all misses
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See I know how to control my Hennessy
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play crazy like them Dominicans
See cause poppa was a rolling stone
He said, son get your gun,
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it's a war and it's on
So why'all go on and bob
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your head to the song
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C#m
Throw up the 4's for the niggaz, that's dead
Interlude 1
and gone
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C#m
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Verse 5
F#m
[Chorus: Repeat 2X]
C#m
I'm tired of smokin
Verse 6
'bama- ass weed
Niggaz out there sellin' backyard
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boogies full o' stems and seeds
C#m
They whoopin' the rocks and
we compressin' the coke
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C#m
They makin' it hard for them {?} to smoke
I went to jail tryin' to get
high; nigga told me
To go to hell went and called
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him, told him come get me out
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So our father, who art in heaven
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It must be the devil cause somethin'
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wrong with these niggaz
Nope - and crazy ain't the word
They say the stupid shit like Trick why don't
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you front a nigga a bird
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Fo' what, so you can smoke it up?
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Impress hoes, buy clothes,
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and make a nig ga come fuck you up?
The game hard on a player
You coulda started with a block and now
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workin' just for quarter fare
With all the cards I sold the hoes
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left me all by myself
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And the game don't even care!
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Outro 1
[Chorus: Repeat 2X]
F#m
C#m
F#m
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