[Verse 1: 2Pac]
Follow me, tell me if you feel me
I think niggas is tryin' to kill me
Picturin' pistols, spittin' hollow points 'til they drill me
Keepin' it real, and even if I do conceal
My criminal thoughts, preoccupied with keepin' steel
See, niggas is false, sittin' in court, turned snitches
That used to be real, but now they petrified bitches
I'm tryin' to be strong, they sendin' armies out to bomb me
Listen to Ron, the only DJ that can calm me
Constantly armed, my firepower keep me warm
I'm trapped in the storm and fuck the world 'til I'm gone
Bitches be warned: word is bond, you'll get torn
I'm bustin' on Giuliani, he rubbin' my niggas wrong
And then it's on, before I leave, picture me
I'm spittin' at punk bitches and hustlin' to be free
Watch me set it, niggas don't want it, you can get it
Bet it make these jealous niggas mad I said it
This thug life nigga, we don't cater to you hoes
Fuck with me and have
A hundred motherfuckers at yo' do' with fo'-fo's!
Hahahahaha, yeah, nigga! Thug Life!
[Verse 2: 2Pac]
My niggas crooked, though it seems
My every single, thought is caught up, in collectin' cream
A made nigga, Picture me dyin' in the blaze, or gunfire
Will not retire 'til I'm paid, turn the bass up high
When we ride, we fly by, bitches blow me kisses
Niggas from Compton to Brooklyn come on get your riches
From Crenshaw to 1-2-5 and do or die
Rollin' with niggas from Long Beach, to Long I
I hardly smile, cause my heart froze
Once I, commence my show, I rip apart foes
Now I, got one nation its a crooked compilation
Just to end the bullshit let's get back to money makin'
Tell 'em bustas that I rolled on, controllin' our house
My shit's so wicked when I flip, niggas closin' they mouth
Them Cocoa brovaz, Buckshot the BDI thug
Greg Nice, LS, Asu, so show a nigga love
Outlaw!
[Verse 3: Marshall]
I spit it slow so these kids know that I'm talkin' to 'em
Give it back to these damn critics and sock it to 'em
I'm like a thug with a little bit of Pac influence
I spew it, and look how I got you bitches rockin' to it!
You motherfuckers could never do it like I could do it
Don't even try it, you'll look stupid, do not pursue it
Don't ever in your life try to knock the truest
I spit the illest shit ever been dropped in two inch
So ticky-tock, listen as the sound ticks on the clock
Listen to the sound of Kim as she licks on the cock
Listen to the sound of me spillin' my heart through this pen
Motherfuckers know that I'll never be Marshall again
Full of controversy until I retire my jersey
'Til the fire inside dies and expires at thirty
And Lord, have mercy
On any more of these rappers that verse me
And put a curse on authorities in the face of adversity
I am a soldier
fight till the end /* chorous */
[Verse 4: Marshall]
Never was a thug, just infatuated with guns
Never was a gangsta 'til I graduated to one
And got the rep of a villain, for weapon concealin'
Took the image of a thug, kept shit appealin'
Willin' to stick out my neck for respect
If it meant life or death, never live to regret what I said
When you're me, people just want to see if it's true
If it's you, what you say in your raps, what you do
So they feel, as part of your obligation to fulfill
When they see you on the streets
Face to face, are you for real?
In confrontation ain't no conversation, if you feel
You're in violation, any hesitation'll get you killed
If you feel it, kill it; if you conceal it, reveal it
Bein' reasonable will leave you full of bullets
Pull it, squeeze it 'til it's empty
Tempt me, push me, pussies
I need a good reason to give this trigger a good squeeze
I am a soldier
fight till the end /* chorous */
[Verse 5:The Notorious B.I.G.]
I'm hard, Jehovah said I'm barred from the pearly gates
Fuck Him, I didn't wanna go to heaven anyway
But my momma got me on my knees with my hands gripped
Talkin' bout some "praise the Lord" shit
Hail Mary, fuck her, I never knew her
I'd probably screw her and dump her body in the sewer
Our father, my pops stuck up dope spots big, black, and mean
With the fifth by the Gabardine
What you expected from his next of kin
I'm loco bro, but ain't no Mexican
I got nines in the bedroom, Glocks in the kitchen
A shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while I'm shittin'
The lesson from the Smith & Wesson is depressin'
Niggas keep stressin', the same motherfuckin' question
How many shots does it take, to make my heart stop
And my body start to shake, Ron G, stop the break
fight till the end /* chorous */
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