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(Eat a dick up) |
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"Stick up, stick up, stick up kids... |
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still don't nothin move but the money" -- [Rakim] |
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[Verse One: Live Squad] |
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Strugglin, jugglin, got it to the black man |
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Eatin the scams like I was motherfuckin Pac Man |
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Cops step off, you know the flavor |
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They fear the ruffneck niggaz with the lunatic behavior |
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And now we gotta eat, gotta make ends meet |
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Stabbin for a fee, it gets hard on the fuckin streets |
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It's like a madness, fuck making gravy |
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I rhyme and do crimes, cuz either way pays me |
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A little rough with a hardcore... theme |
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Couldn't rough something rougher in your... dreams |
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Mad rugged so you know we're gonna... rip |
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With that roughneck nigga named 2Pacalypse |
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Representing YG'z yo |
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Flip Stretch Homicide and my nigga Gambino |
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Seek and Po can't forget Money Bags |
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Stickin up spots and jumpin in Jags |
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Gotta get ahead and always stay bumblin |
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And always keep a hand on the gat |
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Cuz a niggaz straight strugglin |
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[Verse Two: Live Squad] |
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I used to be on tour, but now I'm sick of strugglin |
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I thought about bumpin, but mother-fuck jugglin |
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I know it lasts longer, gets my pockets thicker |
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But I'd rather use my gun cause I get the money quicker, so bust it |
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Look as I cut the records hard to eject |
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A quick clip threw my body down uhh! it's another hit |
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I got energy to blast now you want the task here |
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Cuz of the light a motherfucker shot that ass up |
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But rugged and rough is how I'm steppin |
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Mac is the weapon, and it's always kept in |
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Eye on the Mac cause the dogg got it goin on |
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If you come up steppin you'll be lit like a hick |
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So you better chill, cause I got too much money to get |
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A street thug in the motherfuckin house, I'm strugglin |
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Get drunk but I don't think |
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I'm just in it for the money, don't be a punk snitch |
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When I yank up my gun, don't run don't bitch |
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Cause ya know if you do, you'll be layin in a ditch |
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You'll get your stupid ass blown out the frame |
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Cause I'm playing to win, and survive in the game |
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I'm strugglin |
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[Verse Three: 2Pac] |
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Big up, big up, got him in the frame, bang |
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Ain't nothin changed set it off I let the brains hang |
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Guess who's back, to put niggaz on they back |
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Till I call back, niggaz runnin free better fall back |
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I'm fifty niggaz deep beat sleep |
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with a Mossberg wrapped in my seats |
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three deep in my Jeep chief run with the Young Gunz |
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Strugglin and strivin, that's how the dough come |
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Now get gunned by the one with the gun for the low goal |
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Throw a bolo so low when I flow yo |
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Much too high to read the signs, I'm blind |
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Clickin on the nine, out to get mine |
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I go big up, big up, gotta make the room, boom |
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Blowin motherfuckers to the moon |
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Niggaz need to feel me a real G, home from the bumblin |
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See me on the block, strugglin |
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And rollin with the roughnecks nuff checks cashed |
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I get in niggaz ass, blast |
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Straight strugglin |
