2Pac
Lyricist: Composer:
Young black male
I try to effect by kicking the facts
And stacking much mail
I'm packing a gat cause guys wanna jack
And fuck going to jail
Cause I ain't a crook, despite how I look
I don't sell yayo
They judging a brother like covers on books
Follow me into a flow
I'm sure you know, which way to go
I'm hitting 'em out of the doors
So slip on the slope, let's skip on the flow
I'm fucking the sluts and hoes
The bigger the butts the tighter the clothes
The gimminy jimminy grows
Then whaddaya know, it's off with some clothes
Rowd when the crowd says ho
That let's me know, they know I can flow
Love when they come to my shows
I get up and go with skins before
When I'm collecting my dough
I never respect, the one that I back
The quicker the nigga can rap
The bigger the check
Now watch how they sweat
What kind of style is that?
The style of a mack, and ready to jack
I rendered up piles of black
The wacker the pack, the fatter the smack
I hate it when real niggas bust
They hate when I cuss, they threaten to bust
I had enough of the fuss
I bust what I bust and cuss when I must
They gave me a charge for sales
For selling the tales... of young black males