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kendrick lamar - m.a.a.d city 2 lyrics

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(volume increases with 2pac talking in the background:)
…it’s gone be like nat turner, 1831

[intro/refrain 1 & 2 + kendrick lamar]
aye, on my mama, n+gga
i’ma be the greatest to ever do this sh+t
on, my mama, though, like

but, i told ’em “i can’t sugarcoat the answer for you
this is how i feel:
if somebody k!ll my son, that mean somebody getting k!lled”
tell me what you do for love
loyalty and passion of all the memories collected
moments you could never touch
let somebody touch my mama, touch my sister, touch my woman, touch my daddy, touch my niece, touch my nephew, touch my brothеr
you should chip a n+gga ten toes or blow it in his lap
matter fact, i’m ’bout to spеak at this convention
call you back
+phone and receiver encounter+

[2pac + verse]
black cop
steady stressin’ smith & wesson’s
count my blessings, class is in session
the worst question is the first question
why do we work like slaves, sweating blades, to an early grave?
never got paid, but still we swear even the [?]
answer that, then answer this, too
thug’s gonna get you; you know it’s true
life’s a b+tch, true
you besta backtrack, and try to act black
and live; not to be phony and bother+ive
but why be negative?
what’s the matter, g, black cat got your tongue
fact: track got you sprung
now you hum (do you feel me?)
dum+dum+ditty, it’s a meet
attention, reach each and every brotha’ on the streets
if not peace, then at least let’s get a piece
i’m tired of seeing bodies on the street, deceased
looking through my high school yearbook
reminiscing of the tears as the years took
one homie, two homie, three homies, poof!
we used to have juice, but now there’s no more youth to shoot
god come save the [?]
lost, ghetto souls of black comp’n
[verse 2]
yesterday, i got a call like from my dugle one on one
said they k!lled his only son ’cause of insufficient funds
he was savvin’, he was mobbin’, way belligerent and drunk
talking out his head, philosphin’ on what the lord had done
he said, “k. dot, can you pray for me?”
“it’s been a f+cked up day for me! i know that you anointed. show me how to overcome!”
he was lookin’ for some culture, hopin’ i could bring him closer
[?] spiritual; my spirit do know better, but i told ’em
“i can’t sugarcoat the answer for you, this is how i feel:
if somebody k!ll my son, that mean somebody getting k!lled”

[refrain 1]
tell me what you do for love
loyalty and passion of all the memories collected
moments you could never touch

[verse 3]
i’d wait in front of murderers’ spot and watch ’em his block
i’d catch a n+gga leavin’ service, cause service is all i got
i’d chip a n+gga ten toes or blow it in his lap
brought myself to the court like “b+tch, i did that”
he say, “black power [?] babies get k!lled by cowards” (ayiii)
if you can keep the peace, don’t you f+ck with one of ours
it be murder in the street, it’ll be bodies in an hour
ghetto bourby on the street, paramedics on the dial
[refrain 2]
let somebody touch my mama, touch my sister, touch my woman, touch my daddy, touch my niece, touch my nephew, touch my brother
you should chip a n+gga ten toes or blow it in his lap
matter fact, i’m ’bout to speak at this convention
call you back!
+phone and receiver encounter+



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