Uhh. UHHYeah.Uhh. uhh.Uh! Yeah. yeah.Uhh.I’m on.Fuck em. yeah, uhh.With my hands gripped. praise the Lord shitFuck her, never knew herScrew her. (dump her body, dump her body) sewerOur father. uh-huh.What you expected from his next of kinI’m loco bro, but ain’t no MexicanI got nines in the bedroom, glocks in the kitchenA shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while I’m shittinUhh, the lesson from the Smith and Wessun is depressinNiggaz keep stressin, the same motherfuckin questionHow many shots does it take, to make my heart stopand my body start to shake, if I should die before I wakeWith my hands gripped. praise the Lord shitOur father. if I should die before I wakeFluck thatSnap a nigga shit, smash him with the fifth, watch his body liftShut his hottie’s lips, bitch screamin, hit her body quickGot me like the trifest not knowin how my life isMy life is, rap sheet long as the TurnpikeThe sheistest, hey fella, who bidded with the lifersDid it with the glocks, spit it witcha pops, you was in diapersLoved me when you came to RikersHated me all in the free cypher; mad you can’t be like usSome murderers who turn bikers -- see Biggie Smallsrecruited these snipers -- alumni do it just like usSome pied pipers, squeezin life out y’allIt’s all out war, be all wild as all outdoorIf a coward got beef, y’all be checkin his palmParalyzin my niggaz thorough kid, how bout yours?Real quick to screw a nigga then, hop out fourClean the wipers, hit the party up and, hop out yoursBitch nigga. whoah.Yo when you fuckin wit Mac, you fuckin wit the bestStill wall to wall with them dusty TecsMan you know how I handle my shit, S.K. can on my shitJump out of vans like Hannibal SmithMan I spit a thousand rounds, your squad don’t need itShredders in a riot pump leave you quadriplegicWhen I squeeze don’t breathe keep it lined and evenSo when niggaz get hit, they be cryin screaminLyin bleedin -- from that iron steaminAnd I ain’t tryin to hear that bullshit, I ain’t mean itNiggaz start bitchin, when that pistol in they faceor I sick two puts to come and get you in your placeIf I catch you in my shit, I’m wakin my bitchHear take this shit, crackin the brick, facin that shitTakin two sniffs, grabbin my shitBest believe if I get hit, y’all niggaz takin some shitPicture niggaz takin my shitNiggaz never thought they’d see Cube and Biggiein the year 2000, all drunk and pissyoff whiskey, you can miss me, actin gayHe’s the King of New York, I’m the King of L.A.Doin it the O.G. way; it’s sorta likethe Brooklyn Way, it’s just the crook in meSo this is dedicated to the memory ofthe Notorious One, the glorious oneAnd if you go for your gun, I got to go for mineCock my nine, and seperate yo' head from yo' spineSo, «Grab yo' dicks if you love hip-hop'andfuck you niggaz that shot Big Pop'The conspiracy, of this nation, for assassinationof the young black male in this black hellAnd I can tell, no matter the weatherthat you and Tupac got yo' shit togetherCalifornia Love