I take a shot of Henessey now I'm strong enough to face the madness Nickel bag full of sess weed laced with hash Phone calls from my niggaz on the, other side Two childhood friends just died, I couldn't cry A damn shame, when will we ever change And what remains from a twelve gauge to the brain Arguements with my Boo is true I spend mo' time with my niggaz than I do with you But everywhere it's the same thang, that's the game I'll be damned if a thang changed, fuck the fame I'll be hustling to make a mill-ion, lord knows Ain't no love for us ghetto children, so we cold Rag top slowin down, time to stop for gas Beep my horn for a hoochie with a proper ass, uhh It ain't easy, that's my motto Drinkin Tanqueray straight out the bottle Everybody wanna know if I'm insane My baby mama gotta mind full of silly games And all the drama got me stressin like I'm hopeless, I can't cope Me and the homies smokin roaches, cause we broke Late night hangin out til the sunrise gettin high Watchin the cops roll by It ain't easy... that's right
It ain't easy, being me Will I see the penitentiary, or will I stay free (repeat 3X)
Verse Two: 2Pac
I can't sleep niggaz plottin on to kill me while I'm dreamin Wake up sweaty and screamin, cause I can hear them suckers schemin Probably paranoid, problem is, them punks be fantasizin A brother bite the bullet, open fire and I died I wonder why this the way it is, even now Lookin out for these killer kids, cause they wild Bill Clinton can you recognize a nigga representin Doin twenty to life in San Quentin Gettin calls from my nigga Mike Tyson, ain't nuttin nice Yo 'Pac, do something righteous witcha life And even thou you innocent you still a nigga, so they figure Rather have you behind bars than triggers But I'm hold ya down and holla Thug Life, lickin shots Til I see my niggaz free on the block But no it ain't easy, hahahah Til I see my niggaz free, on the block, oh It ain't easy
Verse Three: 2Pac
Lately been reminiscin bout Peppermint Schnapps in Junior High hit the block Keep an eye on the cops while D-Boys slang rocks It's the project kid without a conscience, I'm havin dreams of hearin screams at my concerts, me all my childhood peers through the years tryin to stack a little green I was only seventeen, when I started servin fiends And I wish there was another way to stack a dollar So my apoli', casue these hard times make me wanna holler Will I live to see tommorrow, am I fallin off? I hit the weed and then proceed to say fuck all of y'all Ain't nobody down with me I'm thuggin, I can't go home Cause muh-fuckers think I'm buggin, so now I'm in this high powered cell at the county jail Punk judge got a grudge, can't post no bail, what do I do in these county blues Gettin battered and bruised by the you know who And these fakes get to shakin when they face me Snakes ain't got enough nuts to replace me Sittin in this, livin hell, listenin to niggaz yell Tryin to torture em to tell, I'm gettin mail But ain't nobody sayin much, the same old nuts is makin bucks while these sluts is gettin fucked They violated my probation, and it seems I'll be goin on a long vacation, meanwhile It ain't easy No it ain't easy
Сайт Makaveli.ru существует с 2005 года, и я всегда старался его обновлять и поддерживать. Мне важно, чтобы проект оставался и хранил память о 2Pac. Я никогда не просил помощи.
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