Tupac Joint (feat. Fatal Hussein)

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]

Rumors that were said, shot in cold blood

Two up in my head, can't talk phone bugged

Somebody want me dead, but I'm still flossin'

I rock my jewelry through the scurriest streets

I keep my ears to the streets

And I ain't scared of police

Lord knows that I got various beefs

So could you pray for the week

You know the rules play on the sheet

So we hustle everyday of the week

That's why we fuck up all the paper we see

We hit the clubs, fuckin ladies for free

Getting drunk, off and hazin' the V

And every couple days we get sweeped

Around the clock we bumpin' and clickin'

You gotta watch cause when they come they be blitzin'

[Chorus: Jim Jones]

Now this is for my homies and my thugs

One million in the truck, and the chrome full of sluts (Fully Automatic!)

You fuckin phonies you'll get plugged (Boom!..Bang!)

I'm a ghetto nigga for life

The streets is in my blood (DIPSET!)

Now this is for my homies and my thugs

One million in the truck, and the chrome full of sluts (Fully Automatic!)

You fuckin phonies you'll get plugged (Boom!..Bang!)

I'm a ghetto nigga for life

The streets is in my blood (BYRDGANG!)

[Verse 2: Fatal Hussein]

Ya niggas dyin', while you other niggas is hidin'

Might be strapped, but you runnin' and ain't ridin'

So I'm slidin' to the place down the hill

Where the homies is murda and when its poppin' down to kill

On the real

The only way a motherfucker try to survive

Is knowin' that he 'bout to die, and ride

I told Face he was the realest in the game

And he smiled and told me 'Pac was the realest that they came

In the jungle, I walk like I'm the king of the beasts

So when you duck huntin', keep movin' cause I'm swingin' the heat

I might go out of town, move fakin' is none of that

And never leave up out the hood, the way I can't come back

Fuck that

Hussein in the street game frame

Life is a struggle, so with the heat take aim

I'm ghetto, don't ever think I'm him its not me

Cuz I love this motherfucker like pills in a hot tea

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: 40 Cal]

Why ya act like I'm new to this?

Mack to the uzi clip

When it comes to beef, we all packed like Luis Rich

Battlin' is ludacris, half of ya uterus

Matter fact, Jimmy, pass me the "Kufi List"

What you think niggas got goons for?

The mass menace at ya door like a costume ball (hello)

My flow is like when you throw a 'Pac tune on

The only time you get tax is when you cop new 'gords, dog

I make it happen with no sarcasm

So it ain't the station wagon, when you see me dodge magnums (get it?)

If I don't hit you when the clip fills

Like the show off the blind date, ya know the fifth will

Break niggas like big bills, when it peels

Sit still, shit's real, listen you a kid's meal

And I eat those, reload, heat blown

Keep those kilos, cause we go beast mode

[Chorus]