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2Pac - Soulja's Story lyrics
Tupac Talking] They cuttin’ off welfare Think they crime is risin’ now You got whites killin’ blacks Cops killin’ blacks And blacks killin’ blacks Shit just gonna get worse They just gonna become souljas Straight souljas Chorus All you wanted to be<b> </b>a soulja<b> </b>a soulja All you wanted to be<b> </b>a soulja<b> </b>like me All you wanted to be<b> </b>a soulja<b> </b>a soulja All you wanted to be<b> </b>a soulja<b> </b>like me All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja All you wanted to be, a soulja, like me Crack done took apart of our family tree My Momma's on the shit, my Daddy’s splittin’, Mom's steady blamin' me Is it my fault, just cause I’m a Young Black Male? Cop sweat me as if my destiny is makin’ crack sells Only 15 and got problems Cops on my tail, so I bail ‘til I dodge ‘em They finally pull me over and I laugh Remember Rodney King and I blast on his punk ass Now I got a murder case You speak a’ Heaven, punk? I never heard of the place What is it to come up fast, got a Uzi and a black mask Drop the fuckin’ task, now who's the jack ass? Keep my shit cocked, cause the cops got a glock too What the fuck would you do, Drop them or let ‘em drop you? I chose droppin’ the cop I got me a glock, and a glock for the niggas on my block 4 of ‘em tried to stab me, I moved out Sold a pound a weed, made G’s, bought a new house I'm only 17, I’m the new kid I got me a crew, bought’em jewels, and a Uzi But all good things don’t last Task came fast, and busted my black ass Coolin’ in the pen, where the goods kept Now my little brother wants to follow in my footsteps A soulja Chorus Buck, buck, niggas get fucked, don’t step to this Quiet has kept them blessed, on a quest with a death wish Tell ‘em they come and test, and the rest, nigga gets hectic Here’s the anorexic, I’m making it to an exit Walkin’ through the streets on the black tip Packed with several gats, 'cause I’m also payin’ back shit Niggas don’t wanna try me, brother you’ll get shot down Now I’m kickin’ the block, cause my bigger brother’s locked down I'm hot now, so many punk police have got shot down Other coppers see me on the block, and they jock now That’s what I call a “kingpin” Send my brother what he needs is some weed up to season Tell him just be ready set, pack your shit up quick And when I hit, be prepared to jet Niggas from the block on the boat now Every single one got a gun, that’ll smoke pow These punks about to get hit by the best I'm wearin’ double-vest, so aim at my fuckin’ chest I'll be makin’ straight dome calls Touch the button on the wall, you’ll be pickin’ up your own balls I can still hear my mother shout: "hit the pig nigga, break your bigga brother out" I got a message for the warden: I'm commin’ for your ass, as fast as Flash Gordon We get surrounded in the mess hall, yes ya’ll A crazy motherfucker makin’ death calls Just bring me my brother and we leavin’ For every minute you stall, one of ya’ll bleedin’ They brought my brother in a jiffy I took a cop, just in case things got tricky And just as we was walkin’ out (bang), I caught a bullet in the head The screams never left my mouth My brother caught a bullet too I think he gon' pull through (yeah, he’ll be all right), he deserved to The fast life ain’t everything they told ya Never get much older, followin’ the tracks of a soulja Chorus Straight soulja, 1993, all of it |
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