free and you gotta be a G ... at thug mansion [Verse One: 2Pac] A place to spend my quiet nights, time to unwind So much pressure in this life of mine
to bring your mama then turn around and hear the drama Havoc I gotta have it steady blastin at Prodigy Mobb 6 feet deep you try to blast me till death
when the law come get me No baby momma drama, ni**a miss me, why plant seeds in a dirty bi**h, waitin to trick me, not the life for me Livin carefree,
in my sheets My life's been crossed, crooked since a seed it hurts Got a package from the devil, payin my deeds Preocuppied by the greed, in this crooked life
cause lil' niggaz run the sreets (my fuckin lil' homies) [2Pac] I remember.. when you was just a lil' G Flirting with death, playin Russian Roulette,
's just the Thug Life mentallity I'm going crazy shit don't phase me I'm living like a thug 'til six niggas carry me Death is on the trigga so pull it
got no place to go... Where you find me? 16 on Death Row 16 on Death Row It's to all my partners in the penitentiaries 16 on Death Row
Last to fall is a baller cat It's death row why the fuck u think we call it that? So if u knew me in my past life Don't act like we homeboys Ain
- [2Pac *speaking over background*] Now you know how we do it like a G What really go on in the mind of a nigga that get down for theirs Constantly, money over
Death to everybody that ain't down with me That's on, feel me? Hahaha Oh yeah, to the cowards, you know what I mean Just feel that, Thug Life, shit
God Only God can judge me [synth voice] Only God can judge me now [heart monitor: long beep] Flatline! [Verse Two: 2Pac] I hear the doctor standing over
on them stupid bitches right now. Watch out. Well now they all say they roaches and parasites. Snakes and all they might Thug Life break night. Drink till we fist fight. Life or death
into this world to be our saviour And that Christ is returning, someday soon to unfold the wonderful plan of eternity, for my life and your life As long
: A coward dies a thousand deaths A soldier dies but once Verse One: They say pussy and paper is poetry power and pistols Plottin on murderin motherfuckers
adversaries worry me and every single day it's a test, wear a bulletproof vest and still a nigga stressin over death If I could choose when a nigga die
G As in gettin' motherfuckers 'fore they come get me Get down for the right for the wishes Fake ass nigga, you in shit, for fightin' over bitches You
got i'm tired of being a nice guy i've been poor all my life, but don't know quite why so they label me a lunatic could care less death or success is
is makin' crack sells only 15 and got problems cops on my tail, so I bail till I dodge 'em they finally pull me over and I laugh remember Rodney King