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gangster love - 2pac lyrics

(intro): 2pac
we takin’ this one to the whole ‘nother level gutter style thug style
you feel me, things that we can only do as a real g
we ain’t dead yet

(verse 1): 2pac
hit me, i got my hennessy find ya foes
in a room full of n-gg-s tryin’ to hide ya hoes
i’m gettin’ high off buddha cause the times be slow
i keep my mind on dough you never find me broke
and who me? a n-gg- livin’ life like a g
in that artillery keepin’ n-gg-s off of me
i can’t sleep livin’ in these wicked times, peep
n-gg-s after me cause they see i’m stackin’ g’s and heat
you can holler if you want to, please!!
i ain’t runnin’ with no punk crew bleed!!
enemies and my range is on, you’re in the danger zone
my f-ckin’ game is strong, now hotline
you suckas better find ya mind i got mine
from hustlin’ and bustin’ them rhymes
to my n-gg-s up in quentin, down on rikers isle
stay rile, but a n-gg- gotta use his styles

(verse 2): 2pac
i could be wrong but i never got along with cops
it’s like they stuck from makin’ n-gg-s duck from glocks
and all the time, my mind’s full of thoughts of ends
i’m still rollin’ my bucket but i bought me a benz
my fake friends say they love me but i know they lie
cause in the dark see they hearts full of homicide
my mama cried when they took me off to jail
only me inside the cell, straight locked up in this h-ll
i hear some sucker screamin’ like the demon’s inside
will ’em away in the mornin’, only the strong survive
i cry, but in my own way swallow my pride
pick a reason to hide from all the n-gg-s that die
cemetery full of brothers i buried it’s goin’ down
even now i wonder will i still be around
my hometown is the gutter i was born a wild
i came up out this dust with my heartless style

(verse 3): eazy-e
aw yeah, let’s take a trip
just sit back and light a spliff with this and don’t slip
on a funky-dope track jump back
strapped with a fat boota sack and a 7-8 flak
come clean, gangsta lean, i got green
but i serve dubs like it ain’t no thing i hang with o.g. players don’t set trip or you might get what we call a rat pack i don’t slack when it come to street i kick real g funk to a gangsta beat it’s so sweet, when you got money to spend i got a proper big tilt and a fabec benz
i make ends, spend my dough i’m no foe
that’s how it is, and that’s how it goes
act like you know when i creep real slow
givin’ love to them playas that i know is real g’s

(hook): 2pac
n-gg-s don’t know my style
quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
b-tch-made -ss n-gg-s don’t know my style

(verse 4): eazy-e
dump dump on fools with a quickness
and they got no cure for this sickness
i get paid for the way that i kick this
like a g-ster, an og-ster
(who’s that?) a real playa named eazy
and i live my life straight crazy
don’t need no punk fools payin’ me
and broke groupies and hootchies don’t faze me
i take two steps back and release myself
to put platinum and gold on the record shelf
i don’t brag, but i do it like a straight up is
before you do a record, partna, handle your business and don’t get caught slippin’ on the under
or you might wonder (what’s up on dem ends, g?)
i call a spade a spade, and get paid
g’s show the way, so i give love to ’em that o.g.p.i.m pilmo, gilmo
hip-hop thugsta, so quick to rush ya
straight to the dirt, fool i do work
n-body move, n-body get hurt
that’s how it is when it come to me
cause i’m the short but quickest player name eazy women can’t play me some say i’m crazy
but i don’t think so, coming if your loco
i give a d-mn about a sk-nkless trick
let me hit it one time and trick that’s it
but don’t trip, gives my dough to no foe
that’s how it is, i got no love for ya

(hook): 2pac
these, n-gg-s don’t know my style
quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
b-tch-made -ss n-gg-s don’t know my style
n-gg-s don’t know my style
quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
b-tch-made -ss n-gg-s don’t know my style
n-gg-s don’t know my style
quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
b-tch-made -ss n-gg-s don’t know my style
n-gg-s don’t know my style
quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
b-tch-made -ss n-gg-s don’t know my style

(2pac collision)
you mothaf-ckas all about my motherf-ckin’ h-ll being though [laughs]
this sh-t thuggish, fo’ life, i told y’all, it’s alb-m three see
g sound, freestyle
motherf-ckin’ young thugs in this motherf-cker [laughs]

- 2pac lyrics

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