Okay, 2Pac's Back
I'm rolling with my crew, you see me two drops back
No the roof not cracked
It's completely missing, absent like it was skipping
But your wife's in attendance
I'm swinging like Kenny Griffin
See the H is my home, on the mic I'm the sickest
Coming straight from the dome, I ain't writing a sentence
Hoes know I got paper, I be recycling women
You just go out and save them, cuff them like a defendant
See I'm a rider
Call it coming down like a spider
Treat your girl like a condom wrapper, hide her
Before I treat her like the booth and get inside her
And get to mashing
Rap is just my passion, it doesn't bring the cash in
I was cooking dimes up, the colour of an aspirin
Now I got them lined up, just because I rhyme tough
I must had a ... sorta kinda
Cos they screaming
[Hook]
2Pac back, 2Pac back
That's all these bitches screaming
That 2Pac back
Okay, I'm beating up the F, hit me a few blocks back
I have them call you're record label screaming you got jacked
Cos my crew got gats, and we do not act
Shouts out to my dog money, cos that's who drew my tatts
Them chicks I hit bad, Them hoes you got raggs
I'm in that white-on-white Camaro with the roof chopped back
They thinking
[Hook]
I spit that poetic justice
I'm white cup gang related
Got the dope in the ...
I might just candy paint it
Never worked at foot locker, still I was serving them Js
But they giving out cases, like when you purchase some shades
Picture me rolling, so they snitched and they told it
Look at the motherfucking wheels, them bitches is stolen
They Screamin'
There goes Fresh, Th-Th-there goes fresh
In a yellow Vet, pumpin L.O.X or Fat P.A.T
Maybe Big M.O.E ...
Or hell I might play me
Cos see I'm balling like Carmelo
Quick to tell your woman hello
They know I keep some green and purple on me, Donatello
Ain't got no time for hoes, it's only paper on the schedule
You can't play me like a cello
Boy, I'm sharp as a stiletto
Give me two white cups and a permanent marker
Dre and T keep that water, You'd think they work for Ozarka
I'm Miami with Tunechi, putting a verse on Tha Carter
Between the streets and the studio
I couldn't work any harder
But see the game is getting lame
Cos nowadays everybody tough
And I'm just trying to reach the goal like a hockey puck
Smashed a lot of sluts, couple models, bunch of singers
And stay dropping stuff, call me butterfingers
The Adventures of Drankenstein
I hope you brought your own syrup, Cos you ain't drinking mine
I told my momma I got her, she told me take your time
Your girl told me she love me, I told her wait in line
I gotta cope with them, all the hoes in love with him
I make the sluts go Nutso like Above The Rim
I got these young'uns scared
Beast, you better come prepared
It's YMCMB
I'm in the building like the concierge, nigga
