I couldn't help but notice your pain (My pain?) It runs deep Share it with me!
[Verse 1: 2Pac] They'll never take me alive, I'm gettin' high with my four-five Cocked on these suckas, time to die Even as a youngster causin' ruckus on the back of the bus I was a fool all through high school kickin' up dust But now I'm labelled as a trouble maker who can you blame? Smokin' weed helped me take away the pain So I'm hopeless rollin' down the freeway swervin, don't worry I'm about to crash up on the curb cause my visions blurry Maybe if they tried to understand me, what should I do? I had to feed my fuckin' family, what else could I do But be a thug Out slangin' with the homies Fuck hangin' with them phonies in the club Got my mind on danger Never been a stranger to homicide My cities full of gang bangers and drive bys Why do we die at an early age He was so young But still a victim of the 12 gauge My memories of a corpse Mind full of sick thoughts And I ain't goin back to court So fuck what you thought I'm drinkin' hennessey Runnin from my enemies will I live to be 23 There's so much pain
[Chorus:] Ohhhh... Tired of the Strain and the Pain Ohhhh... Tired of the Strain and the Pain
[Verse 2: Stretch] Years and years of that rough life Runnin crazed and wild as a kid and growin tough with a knife And livin trifed on the regular Buckin out competitors See a faker move and chase them down like the fuckin predator Get in trouble everyday in school Act a fool And you know I had to break every rule Showin off for the bitches cause I had the mad rep So I had to watch my back when it was time to step But my [?] grimiest with love for me Pop, pop, pop And send a sucka up above for me Aiyyo currency kept passing me by, but I didn't cry Broke and head off with the pack and started sellin coke And now the money's looking lovely Pop the drop top and now the bitches wanna rub me Kick 'em the game It's all the same I kick it back yo Give 'em slack yo And now they label me the mack yo People check it Get disrespected if you front the the birdman You heard man Catch a couple shots from the glock in my hand Damn! At least I'm realistic with my biscuit You know you get your ass twisted so run for cover Me and my man got a plan kickin' major dust So if your on nigga look for the gauge to bust A lot of pressure with the street fame It's a deep game And my mama always cryin' Yo there's so much pain
[Chorus]
Ohhhh... Ohhhh...
[Verse 3: 2Pac] They got me mobbin like I'm Loc'ed And ready to get my slug on I load my clip and slip my motherfuckin' gloves on I ain't scared to blast on these suckas if they test me Trust, I got my glock cocked playa if they press me Bust on motherfuckers with a - paaassion Better duck cause I ain't lookin when I'm - b-blaaastin I'm a nut and drinkin Hennessey and gettin' high On the lookout for my enemies, don't wanna die Tell me why? 'Cause this stress is gettin' major A buck-fifty across the face with my razor What can I do but be a thug until I'm dead and gone Keep my brain on the game and stay head strong These sorry bastards want to kill me in my sleep But will they can I see And everyday it just a struggle Steady thuggin' in the streets And I'll be ballin' loc Don't let 'em make you worry Keep swingin' at these suckas till you buried I was born to raise hell, a nigga from the gutta, Word to Mutha I'm touched I'm kickin dust up Ready to bust I'm on the scene steady muggin' mean Until they kill me I'll be livin this life I know you feel me There's so much pain