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2Pac - Strapped (ft. Eazy-E, Notorious B.I.G.) (Remix) | Текст песни

2Pac:
The plan, to take command of the whole family
Though underhanded, to be the man it was planned
All my road dawgs, official mob niggaz love to act up
The first to bomb we rob niggaz
I can be, lost in my own mind
To be the boss only thought's grip on chrome nines
Niggaz get tossed up, war scars, battlefield memories
Swore I saw the devil in my empty glass of Hennesey
Talkin to a nigga on a tight leash
Screamin \"Fuck the police,\" as I ride through the night streets
Lil' child runnin wild, toward his danger
What's the cause don't be alarmed death to all strangers
Maybe I'm a madman
A pistol grabbin nigga unleash the Sandman
Promisin merciless retaliation, nothin is colder
Close your eyes, hear the ballad of a dead soldier

Eazy-E:
Now everythings good in my hood
And its on and pop and Eazy-Muthaphukkin-E
From East Side South Compton
Str8 givin' up the real
On how a nigga feel talk that shit
Muthaphukkaz caps get peeled
Layin' low in the cut
Gettin how than a muthaphuka niggaz knows whats up
I'm that gangsta, gangsta is that what there still yellin'
Nigga G to a T saggin' and bailin'
Live by the gun you know what I'm sayin' Ren
\"Yea\"
So I guess I'll die by that muthaphukka then
So when I die niggaz bury me
Make sure my shit reads Eazy-Muthaphukkin-E
And it's a fact to be exact my tombstone should read:
He Put Compton On That Map
And thats how a nigga feel
When I'm givin' up Tha Muthaphukkin Real

Biggie:
Frank White the menacing, Chron Chron's the medicine
I got the lettuce and, you turn green like cucumber skin
Got the new, Hummer in the summer when I was a new comer
Then, drugs and MAC-10s
Hugs from fake friends, make ends they hate you
Be broke -- girls won't date you
That's why I relate to, choke yo' ass out til your face blue
Make you, open the safe too
No matter how you call it
This brolic, alcoholic
Like his weed green'd out, like his brick solid
Distribute to, kids who, take heart like Valentine
Drink Ballantine, all the time
Slugs hit your chest tap you spine, flatline
Heard through the grapevine, you got fucked fo' times
Damn that three to nine, fucked you up for real though
Sling steel slow, as for remorse, we feel no

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