[Just Blaze] Welcome to the house of pain, Just Blaze niggaz
[Intro: Mary J. Blige] There's no way out, it seems I can't get free Sombody tell me what's happenin to me
[Notorious B.I.G.] The country bud got me chokin I'm on a mission to the point motherfuckers think I'm smokin Yea that sick nigga Biggie wit the 8-shot fifth Wit the extra clip for that extra shit Don't you know that a killing is thrilling All the blood spilling, is all a part of drug dealing A born gangsta my daddy was a thug Had a .38 wit the hallow point slug So when he lit shots Niggaz dropped quicker than bootlegger sells his liquor A little nigga tried to squeeze .22's in my Reebok shoes Payin dues, while kids was on their one's and two's Now I'm much older, colder, fuck a holster Got the Mac .11's swingin from my shoulder It's a damn shame I got to put my momma through the strain I'm livin in a house of pain
[Chorus: Mary J. Blige] Is anybody listenin and tell me can you can see this darkness surroundin me Now it's gettin colder heavy on my shoulder and it's gettin hard to breathe Visions gettin blury, I'm gettin worried cause it's gettin hard to see When your livin in the house of paaaiiinnn
[2Pac] Yhe motherfuckin dust kicker, who can you trust? Do you have the heart to see a nigga? Before you bust, my name is spoken on the tongues of so many foes Bustin motherfuckers out the blocks and I ain't even go Now how the hell do you explain my claim to fame From doin flicks to bustin tricks out the fuckin frame Got these bitches on my jock niggaz on my block Jealous ass suckers got em duckin from my smokin' glock And bustin niggaz asses is to stay alive Skinny ass playa watchin bigger motherfuckers fry They ask me how I'm livin? how I'm a hustler? Buckin busters 'til they die Now it's on in the ghetto you ain't heard? Niggaz got they AK's headin for the burbs Aimin at them skin headed bitches let it rain Givin 'em a wet, welcome to the house of pain
[Chorus: Mary J. Blige]
[Nas] MJB, be worried niggaz, yea, Nas.. Wendy Williams say I stayed dust maybe I should Cuz these rappers'll have your phone tapped like Savion Glover And on the West, yo, police corrupt, some are bloods But these Teflons I loaded explodin some mugs I'm like Furious in "Boyz In the Hood" But at the drive through I ain't runnin I'm dumpin Crazy like a piru and loc'd up, know how Nas do I'm callin Henchmen and Conception, to organize a black truce And we party hard party wit Nas Since they ain't no more - Mardi Gras And Bush won't apologize I got gangsta hoes Kobe Bryant scared to sodomize And .45's for them suckers y'all idolize Ya'll yellin my name but y'all soon dyin Tryin to portray real but they be ly-in Cuz they want the real niggaz to die so they can gain But neva that, this ain't Everlast, this the House of Pain