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i feel like pac i feel like biggie lyrics (ft. rick ross, meek mill, t.i., diddy & swizz beatz) - dj lyrics

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[intro: swizz beatz]
i’ve been waiting for a long time (how long)
real d-mn long time (how long)
i’ve been waiting for a long time (how ya feel)
man..

[hook: swizz beatz]
i feel like pac, i feel like biggie
i’m feeling like these hatin’ n-gg-s waiting to get me
i’m losing my sleep, i’m losing my mind
you know i go hard when it comes to mine
i feel like pac, biggie, pac, biggie

[verse 1: rick ross]
sucka walk up on me, talking like he know me
ain’t no co defendant do my dirt all by my lonely
down south n-gg-, talking jam pony
rest in peace to look … he showed me my first rollie
b-tches want to know me, haters want to show me
but im just so vicious double m worth 80 tickets
cop just pulled me over, caught up in this thing
take my case to trial, my juror paula deen
i know they hate a n-gg- but he’s such a major n-gg-
tell the clip the .40 when c.i.a. with us
305 them killas, ricky ross the richest
bel- air on my table, i talk it then i live it

[hook]

[verse 2: meek mill]
all of you starve and i eat fast
moussain when i creep past
blacked out i max out with the same watch on me chain
we killing n-gg-s no rep-ss my momma got like three jags
you talkin’ bout how you ball n-gg- we really gettin’ that street cash
say old money, new work
smell the caine on my new shirt
my old g said strap up and don’t lay your head where you do dirt
and my momma said do school work
i was making that tool work
and n-gg-s wanted me dead with a whole lot on my head
man they hit big in the p-ssenger, hit pac in the p-ssenger
so i’m riding round with this mac on me
and a bunch of shooters in back of us
roll up and you a dead man
head shot when we clapped with ya
we sendin’ n-gg-s to the mother land, and i ain’t talkin’ about ‘erica

[hook]

[verse 3: t.i.]
feel like it’s me against the world
bury me a g
my middle finger to the world
i’m gon’ forever be a g
p-ssy n-gg- want a witness stay armed no biggie
when we get busy no alarms just semis
we pour out a lil liquor throw it like straight ballers
we cradle to the grave ride when my homie call
give a d-mn if you me west p
when somebody gotta die, we gon’ march to the steps
they said brenda had a baby but she left it in the alley
one shot that playa hater now we going back to cali
hit the time n-gg- i got a story to tell
my ambition got me ready to die
and when we ride on no more paint we go hard as sh-t
why you complaining and you wonder why we call you b-tch
it’s an every day struggle n-gg- me and my b-tch
it’s unbelievable suicide i thought you would get
said f-ck me warning and the gun don’t blast
give me the .. sorry n-gg- one more chance
you know this sh-t don’t stop
keep these sucker under pressue
only god can judge me shawty i ain’t mad at ya

[bridge: t.i.]
get your mind mad up, n-gg- can’t see me
a paid thug n-gg-
thats why shawty wanna be me
see a kid around around in your town kick in your door
i feel like pac and biggie love the dough, more than you know

[hook]

[outro: diddy]
ayo, how you gon’ to compare yourself to greatness
if you aint ready to be great man
aint no more to it

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