2 pac – po nigga blues lyrics
-girl-
scott storich (remix artist)
-hook- (tupac)
why’d you slang crack? i had to
why’d you slang crack? cuz i had to
why’d you slang crack? cuz i had to
a n-gg- gotta pay the f-ckin rent
-verse1- (tupac)
crazy, i gotta work with what you gave me, claimin i’ma criminal when you the one that made me
they got me trapped in this slavery
now i’m lost in this holocaust headin for my grave g
i told sam he could f-ck the war, and got a busted jaw for sayin “f-ck the lawâ€
and if you wonder why i’m mad, check the record
whats a n-gg- gotta do to get respected
sometimes i think i’m getting tested, and if i don’t say “yes†a n-gg-‘s quick to get arrested
that’s the reason i stay “zestin”(mixing error, 2 voices), i keep a vest on my chest incase the cops is getting restless
walkin round ready to light sh-t up, and since my life is f-cked, some say i’m slightly nuts
buck buck is the sound as i move up, other n-gg-s pay attention when a fool bust.. huh..
they make a n-gg- be a killer, i used to be a dealer but they wanted to see who’s realer
now them same mother f-ckas wanna murder me, and i wonder if the lord ever heard of me
i need loot, so i’m doin what i do, and don’t say sh-t until you’ve walked in my shoes,
there was no other destiny to choose, i had nothing left to lose, so i’m singin the n-gg- blues
hook
-verse2-(tupac)
papa need brand new shoes, but what the f-ck can a n-gg- do, my little boy gotta eat too
so why must i sock a fella? just live large like rocafella
and did you ever stop to think? i’m old enough to go to war but i aint old enough to drink
cops wanna hit me with the book, and you hooked on my “i don’t give a f-ck†look
makin rules, i’ma break em, no matter how much you make em, you show me bakin, i’ma take em
so don’t you ever tempt me, i’m a fool for my n-gg-, and my pockets stay hinted
to my brothers in the barrio, you livin worse then the n-gg-s in ghetto so
i give a f-ck about your language or complexion, you got love from the n-gg-s in my section
you got problems with the punk police, don’t run from the chumps, get the pump from me
we aint free, i’ll be d-mned if i played a chip for a blonde haired blue eyed caucasian b-tch
down with my home boy rich, f-ck a snitch and groupie -ss b-tch
and a n-gg- with a cellular phone, leave his baby at home so he can go out and bone(huh)
and you wonder why we blazin n-gg-s, cuz you punks haven babies cant raise the n-gg-s
and they d-mned to be f-ck ups too, drink 40s of brew, singin the n-gg- blues
hook
why’d you slang crack? cuz i had too
why’d you slang crack? cuz i had too
why’d you slang crack? cuz i had too
and now i’m headin for the mother f-ckin’ pen
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