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2Pac - To Live & Die in L.A. (feat. Val Young) | Текст песни

[Intro]
“Street Science, you’re on the air. What do you feel when you hear a record like 2Pac’s new one?”
“I love 2Pac’s new record”
“Right, but don’t you feel like that creates — ahh— tension between East and West? I mean, he’s talking about killing people, ‘I had sex with your wife’ — and not in those words. But he’s talking about, ‘I wanna see you deceased’..."

[Verse 1: 2Pac Makaveli]
To live and die in L.A., where everyday we try to fatten our pockets
Us niggas hustle for the cash so it's hard to knock it
Everybody got they own thang, currency chasin'
Worldwide through the hard times, worrying faces
Shed tears as we bury niggas close to heart
Who was a friend is now a ghost in the dark
Cold hearted bout it, nigga got smoked by a fiend
Trying to floss on him blind to a broken man's dream
A hard lesson
Court cases keep me guessin'
Plea bargain ain't an option now, so I'm stressin'
Cost me more to be free than a life in the pen
Making money off of cuss words, writing again
Learn how to think ahead, so I fight with my pen
Late night down sunset liking the scene
What's the worst they could do to a nigga?
Got me lost in hell
To live and die in L.A. on bail
My angel sing

[Hook: Val Young]
To Live and Die in L.A., it's the place to be. You've got to be there to know it, everybody wanna see. (Repeat)

[Verse 2: 2Pac]
It's the City of Angels and constant danger
South Central L.A., can't get no stranger
Full of drama like a soap opera, on the curb
Watching the ghetto bird helicopters, I observe
So many niggas getting three strikes, tossed in jail
I swear the pen right across from hell
I can't cry cause it's on now
I'm just a nigga on his own now
Living life thug style
So I can't smile
Writing to my peoples when they ask for pictures
Thinking Cali just fun and bitches
Better learn about the dress code, B's and C's
All them other niggas copycats, these is G's
I love Cali like I love women
Cause every nigga in LA got a little bit of thug in him
We might fight amongst each other... but I promise you this:
We'll burn this bitch down, get us pissed
To live and die in LA
Let my angel sing

[Hook]

[Verse 3: 2Pac]
It wouldn't be L.A. without Mexicans
Black love, brown pride and the sets again
Pete Wilson trying to see us all broke
I'm on some bullshit out for everything they owe
Remember K-day?
Weekends, Crenshaw, MLK?
Automatics rang free, niggas lost they way
Gang signs being shown, nigga, love your hood!
But recognize and it's all good
Where the weed at?
Niggas gettin' shurrmed out
Snoop Dogg in this muthafucka permed out
M.O.B, Big Suge in the Lo-Lo, bounce and turn
Dogg Pound in the Lex with a ounce to burn
Got them Watts niggas with me, O.F.T.B
They got some hash, took the stash, left the rest for me
Neckbone, Tre, Herron, Big Buntry too
Big Rock got knocked, but this one's for you
I hit the studio and drop a jewel, hoping it pay
Getting high, watching time fly: to live and die in LA
Let my angel sing

[Outro: 2Pac]
This go out for 92.3, and 106
All the radio stations that be bumping my shit
Making my shit sells katruple quitraple platinum
This go out to all the magazines that support a nigga
All the real motherfuckers
All the stores, the mom and pop spots
A&R people, all y'all motherfuckers
L.A., California Love part motherfucking two
Without gay ass Dre

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