2Pac- Bury Me a G

Thug Life

Thinkin' back
Reminiscing on my teens
A young G
Getten' paid over dope fiends
Fuckin' off cash that I make
Nigga, what's tha sense of workin hard
If you never get tp play
I'm hustlen'
Stayin' out till it's dawn
And commin' home
At 6 o'clock in tha mornin'
Hand's on my glock
Eye's on tha prize
Finger on tha trigga when a nigga rides
Shootin' craps
Bustin' niggas out tha door
Pick my money off tha floor
God bless tha tre-four
Stuck on full, drunk again
Sippin' on Gin
With a couple of friends
Sayin' those thug life niggas be like major pimps
Stickin' to tha rules is what made it simp
And if I die
Let it be
But when they come for me
Bury me a G

Chorus x2 -- Tupac>

I ain't got time for bitches
Gotta keep my mind on my mothafucken riches
Even when I die
They won't worry me
Mama don't cry
Bury me a G

More Trouble than tha average
Just made 25 and i'm livin' like a savage
Bein a G ain't no easy thing
Cause you could fuck around get crossed
And get stuck in tha game
And for tha rest of your life you will sit and remineise
Wonder why it had to end like this
And to tha G's you can feel my pain
Till tha mothafuckas gets born again

You thought I was a game kid
I'm not tha nigga for playin games
I let my buckshots rang
When I pull tha trigga on my gauge
I'm on tha rampage
Makin' runs for tha devil
Ain't nothin' on my mind
Will get me in some trouble
I'm tryin to ride
No more loves
For me hard to figure
Get a nigga, smoke a blunt
Or is a jury starts (break that shit)
I gives a fuck nigga
Stuck outta luck
When I bust
Pull me to my death
But i'm a G to tha enemy

Chorus x2 -- Tupac>

I ain't got time for bitches
Gotta keep my mind on my mothafucken riches
Even when I die
They won't worry me
Mama don't cry
Bury me a G

Stretch>

I got nothen' ta loose so I choose to be a killer
Went from bangin' ta slangin'
Now i'm a dope dealer
All my life payed tha price to be tha boss
Back in school
Wrote tha rules on getten' tossed
Poppin' rocks on tha block was a past time
Pack a 9 all the time
You wanna test mine ?
Don't cry
I die before they play me
From tha cradle to tha grave
Bury me

Straight Thug G
Kickin' it with tha homies in tha hood
Getten' drunk, smokin' blunts
A bitch said I was no good
I gives a fuck
I spend my time in tha dope spot
Never had no time for no bitch
Instead slangin' rocks
And bustin' caps on you punk ass marcs
Fake ass G's
Bitch niggas with no heart
I'm stayin' real till i'm 6 feet deep
So when a nigga gone
Bury me a G

Chorus x2 -- Tupac>

I ain't got time for bitches
Gotta keep my mind on my mothafucken riches
Even when I die
They won't worry me
Mama don't cry
Bury Me a G

Tupac>

Stuck on Full
Tangaray got a nigga high
Lord knows I don't need another DUI
I led a Thug Life
Heartless hustler
Just cause I fucked
Don't mean I trust her
Now my pagers vibratin'
Can't sleep
So i'm mobbin' to tha ho's house
Pumpin' Isely
Is it cool ta fuck is what i'm askin
Bitch recognize game and start laughen
When i'm all in those guts and shit
Prayin' that a nigga don't nut too quick
Cause i'll fuck and get up and let ya know
I'll be a 10 minute brotha for a $2 ho
Lots a ho's get mad and shit
I let a trick be a trick
You can have that bitch
Cause I doubt if I change
Tha games a mothafucker
Real niggas turn ta bustas
Bury Me a G

Chorus x6 -- Tupac>

I ain't got time for bitches
Gotta Keep my mind on my mothafucken riches
Even when I die
They won't worry me
Mama don't cry
Bury me a G

I ain't got time for bitches --- bitches

Notorius BIG - 10 crack commandments

Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine"

Uhh, it's the ten crack commandments
What, uhh, uhh
Nigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huh
Can't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed
To my hustlin niggaz
Niggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggaz
My triple beam niggaz, word up

(Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
"TEN"

I been in this game for years, it made me a animal
It's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual
A step by step booklet for you to get
your game on track, not your wig pushed back
Rule nombre uno: never let no one know
how much, dough you hold, cause you know
The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially
if that man fucked up, get your ass stuck up
Number two: never let em know your next move
Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence
Take it from your highness (uh-huh)
I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips
Number three: never trust no-bo-dy
Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up
Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck
she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up
Number four: know you heard this before
Never get high, on your own supply
Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at
I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce
Number six: that god damn credit, dead it
You think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget it
Seven: this rule is so underrated
Keep your family and business completely seperated
Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch
Find yourself in serious shit
Number eight: never keep no weight on you
Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too
Number nine shoulda been number one to me
If you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh)
If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen
They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin
Number ten: a strong word called consignment
Strictly for live men, not for freshmen
If you ain't got the clientele say hell no
Cause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snow
Follow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up
If not, twenty-four years, on the wake up
Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up
Caretaker did your makeup, when you pass
Your girl fucked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks
she sniffed a whole half of cake up
Heard she suck a good dick, and can hook a steak up
Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhh

Crack king, Frank Blizzard
Uhh

(Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
"Ten"

Cali Agents - This is my life

[ VERSE 1: Rasco ]
It be the raw rhyme spitterm, no glitter with no glam
I can still turn out your whole jam
It's nothin but fam up in the spot, nigga, ready or not
And if you wanna see us play, put a buck in the slot
We got dangerous plots
Schemes and big dreams, big money themes
I need just to feed my seed
No greed involved, but I still stand tall
Be spendin yo time up at the goddamn mall
Doin things that don't mean shit
Still lookin for tail, I'm lookin for my checks in the mail
Without fail we bring it back to its original form
Been doin this before you young cats was born
Hated in my own backyard, what kinda logic is that?
These niggas mad cause I'm bringin it fat
In fact, I'm never broke, never blowin the smoke
But when I'm standin in the crowd, they be knowin the quotes
It's like, how in the hell do these cats even sell?
Be spittin big words your ass can't even spell
Stars and quasars, a hundred and ten bars
Of pure rhymes, I'ma tell you one last time
My rhyme's elite, give me 265 feet
I might leave niggas sprawled in the street
When you spit yours, the shit didn't sound right
And now it's because you didn't lay it down right
Cover your folks with all the chronic weed smoke
You just found out that Ras didn't need folks
I do it myself, I keep cash at the spot
Be up in your face, whether you like Ras or not

[ CHORUS ]
This is my life, I gotta live it
And if you cats really
Don't know we gotta let y'all feel it
It's never the same
You know we gots to maintain
We figured you out, we know your whole damn game (2x)

[ VERSE 2: Planet Asia ]
Yo, bon voyage, load the track as we take off
I break off with explodin facts you can't shake off
Experiment in Cali, I rep the Valley up to Central
Hoes, flows, big dough and smashin rentals
Cross the country like young guns bustin at you outdoors
These backpack niggas don't even know what they out for
Frontin like they don't want cash
Every since I made my first g I knew I had to make shit last
I write rhyme for rhyme, line till my mind got elaborate
A complicated torturous arrangement on my tablet
I'm hard-fisted, on some smoke-a-cigar-split shit
Straight out the yard district, here to leave scars inflicted
On your wack-ass production, the way we freak beats is unique
You feel the heat just like a backlash or somethin
I write fast but think slow, I keep my cash wrinkled
Yo, catch me blowin grams in Amsterdam at Paradiso
Pullin notches, and not only do we rock fresh gear
But when it comes to hip-hop, we like a breath of fresh air
Like yeah, and just to let y'all side-busters know
We rep the underground, but still we out to make dough
Know what I'm sayin?

[ CHORUS ]

Malcolm - Ghostface Killah

[ghostface]
ayo
i'm like malcolm out the window with the joint
hoodied up blood in my eye , a lead to fly
like fuck it [2 gunshots] , look how these niggas duck shit
one kid hollerin what lookin up , he the big wig
fake ass cat , low life , sodomize mind
beatin niggas , big bricks of bread sellin mad dimes
his feet hurt , networkin he get no work
yo smack him where his hand hurt , fuck what he worth
yo he sucked his thumb smooth for the kid laced with the big guns
stain to my baltimore niggas that he on the run
plus he ill in the drums , heartburn for life , calcium man
watch him grab the tums , he's a front
pigeon totalist sister with the fat ass
show hash behind up the block plus he smashed her
big bub did him somethin deadly , act premedidtated
buck 60 strike was the medley
nice like van halen , seen him at the tunnel with his skin peelin
did two days thought he was jailin
you get close , look at his hands
that's the same kid that cut his wrists , talkin bout the cuffs did it
he ran away , frontin majorly , eyes like sammy davis jr.
rounded off with a fade g , he sport the bob hope classics
ran down asics , kmart , the short sleeve shit be the basics
he eat hams shitted on himself twice , big hatted jews
rushed the nigga out in crown heights
[chorus:]
yo let me tell you how the game go
we gettin rid of all the prostitutes
tony wants the streets back fo sho
too many hustlers , too many thieves
we're fuckin up who's willin to fight and teach the c's
too much tv , guns and robberies
lust and greed and hate the 4 devils jealousy
[ghostface]
yo i champunch mase in his face over some bullshit
the other night they kidnapped his brother pokin it with knives
it's rainin , 85 degrees kinda muggy
one of the nights they thrown in his face it's real ugly
yo we up in jonesy's posin , all these niggas know me
from fuckin wit , under theses niggas heavy parolees
yo we played the speaker
and from a distance we could see these chains
the p slayed , flat on his chest , was two plains
ashy hands yo , no need for rings at all
he just cracked the v8 backed up , leaned against the wall
lookin flower , he just came home , he on like a fuck
did a dime for holdin up the gods up in the armored truck
ten years later son 280 on the weight tip
he throwin up six plates plus he studied matrix
he's a wally horse shout it out sweatin through his valor
cock-eyed nigga back up his neck he had shores
sammy eagerly rode up on him , taxi off the turkey with the joint
on him
flower look his man stood up before him
the bitches hit the table , jah king stripped off his cables
shots went off , sam'll get a chance to make his debut
flower grabbed tiff his man with the sideburns , hat fell off
we nerd his wigworms , he hid behind rich
see allah hit the light switch , young girls were trampled
in the measured pool , pistol with mase , and broke the handle
desperate crawlin to the door on all fours
shim kicked the jukebox the theme song rode in was "it's yours"
oh my goodness , ba grabbed the mo bottle thrashin
he layin like a gay models shoutin out sebastian
he smiled with his teeth missin begging for mercy
no more god , the 68 thousand down a pair of three
out came the cannon , whistled out zaggin
cham snatched his flag four big rocks enter the dragon
it's over , another story told
lyin with the snakes , tongue kissin cobras

[chorus]