2Pac ft Game - Hey Nigga (Can I Lay Low) | Текст песни

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• 2Pac ft Game
• Hey Nigga (Can I Lay Low)

Still on parole and I'm the first nigga servin
Pour some liquor on the curb, for my homies that deserve it
If I wanna make a million, gotta stay dealin
Kinda boomin round the way, think today I make a killin
Dressin down like I'm dirty, but only on the block
just a clever disguise, to keep me runnin from the cops
Gettin high I think I'll die if I don't get no ends
I'm in a bucket but I'm ridin it like it's a Benz
I hit the strip I let my music buck
drinkin liquor and I'm lookin for a bitch to fuck
Rather die makin money, than live poor and legal
as I slang another ounce, I wish it was a kilo
I need money in a major way
Time to fuck my girl, she gettin paid today, ha hah ha
I live Thug Life and let the money come to me
Cause they can never take the game from a young G

Damned if I don't, and damned if a nigga do
Now watch a young motherfucker pull the trigger too
RAISE UP, and don't let them see ya cry
Dry your eyes, young nigga time for do or die
I pack a pistol in my pocket, ready on my Glock
Ain't no time for a nigga to even cock shit
I done seen a motherfucker peep pain
at point blank range cause he slept on the game
Ain't a damn thing changed, they shakin the dice
Now roll em if you can't stand pain better hold em
Cause ain't no tellin what ya might roll
You might fold catch AIDS from a slight cold
You better live ya life to the fullest
Be quick to kill a bull got a pistol motherfucker better pull it
And even if they kill me
They can never take the life of a young G

I'm up before sunrise first to hit the block
Lil' bad motherfucker with a pocket full of rocks
Learned to throw them thangs, get my skinny lil' ass kicked
Niggaz laughed, til the first motherfucker got blas-ted
I put the nigga in his casket
and now they covering the bastard in plastic
I smoke blunts on the regular fuck when it counts
Tryin to make a million dollars out a quarter ounce
Gettin ghost on the five-oh, fuck them hoes
Got a forty-five screamin out surviv-al
Hey nigga can I lay low, cook some ya-yo
and holla five-oj when I say so
Don't wanna go to the pen, I'm hittin fences
NARC's on a nigga back missin me by inches
And they say how do you survive, weighin one-fifty-five
in the city where the little niggaz die
Tell mama don't cry, cause even if they kill me
They can never take the life of a real G


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