Last Wordz

Artist：2pac

Songs Title：last wordz

Ice Cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house

The nigga you love to hate

Ice Cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house

The nigga you love to hate

Ice Cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house

Yo, here comes the nigga with the ruff, terror

The paranoid, gots to get the boy

Get your steel 'cuz I feel like a headbanger

Yah, I got a gang of shits

Styles guns my Uzzie wieghts a mutha-fuckin' ton

Bucking down one, bucking down two

Bucking down your crew, mutha fuck you

Pigs were blue, I where black, nothing but black

'Cause god damn its a brand new payback

Fuck Pat Sajak, never did nothing for a nigga

On tha trigga, the zigga, the zag, the nickel, the bag

The nigga, the sag, the forty five mag, got you runnin' like a fag

So, keep your mutha-fuckin' jokes

'Cuz, I'm that nigga with a fresh pair of locs, no yokes but smokes

Crakers and them dirty mackers friends aren't jackers

Get yah for your drawers, young niggas out to kill for cars

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house

Oh, to the mutha fuckin' G I break crazy

A lot of niggas hate me but they can't fade me

Stop me, clock me, cops wanna glock me

Mutha fuck, mutha fuck, pigs can't stop me

Uhh, am I a G, I got proof

Banged in my youth, keep niggas on the roof

With a scope, dough, Cube keep the rope

Tupac string a nigga up, hit the mob dope

So what's up Punk

You want what I got step to me wrong fuck around and get shot

Your mom's crying fuck her, bust her

Bitch start screaming to me and I'll dust her

Pops got the LP phat, track on hit

Laid by the mutha fuckin' Bobcat

Ninety three suckas want me to go out

Throw the hoe out, bitch mutha fucker I'm rich

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house

Got any last wordz

Now they're after me, why? 'Cuz a niggas black

Sit back, ain't afraid to pull a triggar back

Let 'em come step to a real mutha-fucker

Mama ain't raised no suckers

Dan Quayle, don't you know you need to get your ass kicked

Where was you when there was niggas in the caskets?

Mutha-fucker rednecks all the same

Feel a real nigga if he ain't balled and chained

That's why we burn shit and wreck

'Cuz the punk police ain't learned shit yet

You mutha-fuckas gonna pay the price

Can't make a Black life, don't take a Black life

It's on, the next real nigga fall dead

Dred, Jheri Curl, process, or bald head

Be prepared for the smoke to bust

What niggas need to do is start loc'in up

United we stand, divided we fall

They can shoot one nigga but they can't take us all

Let's get along with the Mexicans

And we can all have peace on the sets again

Imagine that if it took place

Keeping the smile off their white fakes

I ain't racist but let's trade places

Trace the hate 'n face it

One nigga teach two niggas, three teach four niggas

And them niggas teach more niggas

And when we blast that'll be the biggest blast you've heard

And them is my last wordz