 Amerikkka' » De lyrics [+ Tilføj +] |
1. _ Jealous Got Me Strapped
Tupac:
Spice heres go them niggas yo
Hit that shit, hit that shit.
We all niggaz going down where the fuck ya all going down.
Spice 1:
Damn aint this a bitch ya all got me fucked up
On this ol' playa haten ass shit.
Know what i'm sayin'?
Understand me?
When i was broke you all niggaz didn't give a fuck
If i was pissin' on myself, or shittin' off tha bay bridge, nigga.
Now you in my mutha fuckin' mix talkin' that ol' crazy shit,
That's alright cuz i'm gonna bust a cap in that ass.
Me and pac goin' let you know about
That ol' playa haten ass shit though.
Ya see these jealous mutha fuckaz
That be playin me g
Like a sucka ass nigga see
That ain't feeling me
It ain't easy
To kill a g
A mutha fuckin' playa
From tha f - a - to tha c
Back stabbers in tha mutha fuckin' place
Smilin' in my face
I got my hand on my gun
Cuz they got me on tha run
Spice mutha fucin' one
I'm for leavin' bodies numb
I'm a g mutha fucker
Can't you see
I'm a g
Rollin' deep
With my phat fo-fo uzi
I comes with a big phat gat
And hollow point clip
And quick
To be a soldier
By my shit
So nigga
Don't try no mo' shit
No ho shit
Cuz when i was broke
Nigga didn't give a fuck
About my statis
Now that i'm at this
I'm loced out
And livin' lavish
So fuck tha gun control
About ta bust a cap nigga
Cuz tha jealous got me strapped
Spice 1: i keep my hand on my gun cuz they got me on the run
Tupac: jealous got me strapped
Spice 1: i keep my hand on my gun cuz they got me on the run
Tupac: jealous got me strapped
Spice 1: i keep my hand on my gun cuz they got me on the run
Tupac: jealous got me strapped
Spice 1: i keep my hand on my gun cuz they got me on the run
Tupac:
Now niggaz know that tha jealous got me strapped
Stepping close to the edge
I got tha cops and tha feds on my back
And there's no way that i'm giving up
I rather bury you bitches
Cuz ain't no to marks gonna worry my riches
If i catch yo ass in traffic (humm)
You betta pull for ya pistol an open fire
Or get blasted (booo yahh!!)
I'll be damned if i drop
It don't stop
I'm boxin' mutha fuckaz with my glock
A skinny ass neva had a penny ass nigga
I figure my mashfurd pump will show them punks who's bigger (blah)
And even if i did fall -- i'll still ball
I'm bustin' mutha fuckers with my back against the wall
Till these jealous ass bitches kill me
I'll be thugin' like a mutha fucker
Nigga feel me
And ain't no time for mistakes
So homies watch ya back
Cuz these jealous ass tricks got me strapped
Jealous got me strapped...
Spice 1: i keep my hand on my gun cuz they got me on the run
Tupac: jealous got me strapped
Spice 1: i keep my hand on my gun cuz they got me on the run
Tupac: jealous got me strapped
Spice 1: i keep my hand on my gun cuz they got me on the run
Tupac: jealous got me strapped
Spice 1: i keep my hand on my gun cuz they got me on the run...
Spice 1:
Homie ya know if i don't be runnin' with my strap
Then i might get blasted
Get blasted or blast
That's how i'm livin'
So i blast and blast the bastard
I can't be worried about no jail time
Cuz niggaz they tryin' ta take my head
I can't have shit if a nigga dead
So i bust back
And break the bitch niggaz off propa
With a four-four take nine a chopper
And try and decapatate a niggaz arms from with his shoulders
These jealous niggaz don't know they fuckin' around with a soldier
I don't be slippin'
So nigga don't wait for me ta fall
And if i got enough
A hallow tip will smoke |
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2. _ Stickin' To The "g" Code
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3. _ Give The "g" A Gat
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4. _ Hard To Kill
Method man:
Yeah, play times over mutha phuckaz, spice 1's defiantly in mutha
Phuckin' effect.
You know what i'm saying? bringing it to all you bitch ass niggaz, so
Raise up
And recognize, and understand that this brother is hard to kill.
Spice 1:
I'm running this niggaz off their block taking their shit kicking it to
The bitches.
People cant lift off your spot i'm leaving your shit all up in stitches.
Nigga,
Bullets go through the door, i'll shoot you and that ho, got a cap for
Each
Nigga fucking with my cash flow. pid cap, be love cap pid, because in
The neighborhood
Cause still kill at will.
Gotta keep on my pistol on tight, slanging sugar delite, that china
White got these
Niggaz killing each other tonight, sometimes a turf is like a war zone,
Or even
Vietnam, not at the movies but you still see the died come. and a nigga
Catch a slug,
Caps' be pulled for fun foo, you got to watch your shit before we pull a
Ak on your
Own blood, se niggaz will stick you for your cash, that's when they
Enter the t-shirt
Contest to super soak their ass. so method man show these niggaz the
Deal. let these
Mutha phuckaz know that your hard to kill.
Method man:
Who dat nigga? you on with me with the super fly methtical nigga. who
Want to die?
For year nigga. wow, even try to test sides. challenger your the bird
With
My 45 cabolar. can it be that this is the s.p.i.c.e. 1 and the method
Mutha phucka
With the guns blazing? you trail, my god, its amazing. where your punk
At?
Nightmares like wes craven. the bigger the critter, the harder to pull
The trigga.
I'll send your ass back to the dark side nigga. your a snake, i've seen
You sliver,
So i deliver with death. we'll throw your punk ass in the river. on the
Battle ship
I'm the captain. beat that ass bloody as i send it to the camp. tical!
Chorus
S.p.i.c.e. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah.
S.p.i.c.e. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah.
S.p.i.c.e. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah.
Spice 1:
Blah! these mutha phuckaz nutz if you want to murder me, harder to kill
Than your
Average mutha phuckin' g. rollz with the uzi with that shit that will
Make your body
Drop. cause if your shot, tic toc and you don't stop. nigga, down for my
Strap
Niggaz on their back, no rat-tat-tat so its on the map. died come again,
Coming
Straight out of my jaws, got these niggaz screaming out paws, pistol
Grip and breaking
Out their jaws. yeah, so you don't want to fuck with me, many niggaz out
There to go
Nuts with me. and even on your block smoke them like a fucked up bell,
Cant be caught
By no po-po's cant be put in no slammer. i don't be fucking with no
Snitches, aint no
Body going to tell, leave your dick in the dirt, and yo momma as well.
New york
To cali niggaz are hard to kill, shit is too real, your a ignorant mutha
Fucka if your
Not riding with your steal.
Chorus
S.p.i.c.e. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah.
S.p.i.c.e. come to be hard to killah, hard to killah, hard to killah.
S.p.i.c.e. coming from the bay area, bay area, puffing carea.
S.p.i.c.e. coming from the bay area, bay area, puffing carea.
1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7
1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7 1-8-7
Outro: spice 1
Capping your ass for the 94, what you know? grab your glock. blah! me
Burst out first 'mon.
We are in 7000 g.
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5. _ Three Strikes
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6. _ D-boyz Got Love For Me
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7. _ Strap On The Side
rolling with my motherfucking strap on the side of me
Don't fuck with the east bay g
..repeat three more times
Buck 'em down with the clip and the trigga
Screaming like eiht yelling come on niggaz
Nappy head muthafuckas in a coupe deville
Lightin shit up like fire marshal bill
You see i hops on the flo like my nigga dominoe
And get a big fat sack of yay-ay
A key or a half a muthafuckin thang
Pistol whip a nigga with an ak-ay
Peep this lodi dodi i shot up his body
Left his ass bloody in the front of the party
Yi-a-yig-a-young nigga rollin up out the cut
Do a driveby with the feds on my nuts
Niggas be gettin gatted when they step to this g-zy
I pulls my motherfucking uzi
And spill his brain (spill his brain)
Spill his brain (spill his brain)
I spill his brain in his muthafuckin lap
I pulls a jack (pulls a jack)
Pulls a jack (pulls a jack)
And shoot the heart out his muthafuckin back
I come with 187 not with that ho shit
So nigga spark up the bomb so we can blow shit
...repeat intro 2 times
Comin up on they ass like tales of the cryptic
Uz thang swallow that ass like lipton nigga
And now they try to wonder and figure
How the fuck charles manson turned his self to a nigga
Put a blast on they ass with the holes in the barrel
Bullets fly in they chest like a muthafuckin sparrow
Cause we get like steven king bodies swing from my ceiling
Open up the chest when it's time for the cap peeling
9-4 hit the do' with a fat gat
Comin like this break em down like that
The nigga with the facts and the fat crack sack
Po pos on my back blow they ass off the map
With the 187 mad man killa
Spill a nigga guts for the fuck
...repeat intro 4 times
It goes one for the trouble but you don't wanna floss
Unless you wanna flex with my bitch nigga waltz
Ga-a-gat that ass with the double deuce derringer
From the bay area the pall bearer
6 niggas carry ya momma in hysteria
Welcome to your mutherfuckin coffin and i stare at cha
Cause you're a dead muthafucka black
And you never should have fucked with the 187 fac
So nick nack patty whack give a g a gat
And put some bullets in that ass crack
Yeah break em down with the mac
And like john madden 93 boom he's on his back
Spice 1 is a muthafuckin trooper
So say what up to the east bay freddy kruger
Blow the head off a muthafuckin cow
When my gat goes off like a m-1000
Take the hood off your hooptie when i bust a cap
Rollin with my muthafuckin strap on the side
... repeat intro 8 times
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8. _ Murder Ain't Crazy
(chorus): 4x
Groupie ass
Bitch type of niggas can't fade me
They're callin' me a lunatic
But murder ain't crazy
(spice 1 - overlapping chorus)
Yeah, yeah, hahahha
Wassup nigga?
Don't look at me like y'all know who i am
Amerikkka's nightmare
Spice muthafuckin' 1
Nigga, young, black
You know i won't give a fuck
(verse 1):
Old school drop caddy five, six niggas
Rollin' up in my rearview
With they fingers up on them triggers
Come let's take a trip
And hop into some gangsta shit with me
13 caps for them niggas who wanna get with me
Get at me niggas empty enough clips at me
Wanna put some holes and some muthafuckin rips in me
But i don't give a fuck i just stay strapped
And be a soldier about that shit
When it comes to peelin' their caps nigga
So won't ya get your blast on
And if you miss me with your 13 shots
Nigga your ass's gone
Cause i'm gon hit you on that first shot
And then i ain't gon stop
Until some muthafuckas call the cops
Then i |
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9. _ Nigga Sings The Blues ["black Jack's Version"]
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10. _ Bustas Can't See Me
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11. _ Doncha Runaway
(verse 1):
Now don't you run away from my glock
You can't dodge 17 muthafuckin' shots
Could somebody pass me a clip and a trigger
Walk across the party pistol whip a nigga
Shiiit,
I'm comin' up at 'em with the .9's the glocks and macs
And they'll never breathe again like toni braxton
Cause i don't see nothing wrooong with a little brotha jack
So say "what up?" to the 187 fac
Nappy head ass muthafuckas wearin' plats
Kickin' back like a muthafucka slangin' sex
Ready to peel a nigga cap if they got the nap
So if you're funkin' with the fac
Better to stay strapped
Cause we'll be comin' up at your back with the black gat
Nigga, and you be feelin' kinda fucked up
When your homie dropped, it's simple
You can't run away from my glock
(chorus): 2x
Doncha runaway
From my nine
There's no place to hide
I'm gonna get you by and by
(verse 2):
Spiggedy one kickin' dat ass with some lay back shit
The trigga-happy nigga, i figure
Niggas won't wanna step to me
If they know i'll be bustin' caps
I roll straps niggas take naps
Cause i don't be fuckin' around
When it comes to bustin' that steel
I'm too real, niggas feeel me
When i kick this gangsta ass shit that you never heard
But fuck what you've heard
I smokes niggas like herb
Put your ass smooth on ice
So nigga don't be 2 proud to beg
For your muthafuckin' life
Cause nine kelly i'ma make 'em stutter
Make 'em drop, nigga
You can't run away from my glock
(chorus): 2x
(verse 3):
Comin' like the lench mobb swingin' on the vine
Bailin' out peace to my muthafuckin' nine
Pullin' my cap back ready to serve they ass
Givin' a fuck about what the next nigga done up in the past
Nigga, i like to let a nigga have a bloody body
Don't think i'm bad, no box and no karate
Just a big fat gat for them suckas
I ain't scared to you muthafuckas
Shiiit, and nigga that's how it be
"rollin' with my muthafuckin' strap on the side of me"
So don't come at me with that shit
'bout you gon gaffle me up
I cock your cranium like the muthafuckin' [?], nigga
So keep your hand on your pistol grip
Bullets whistlin' and shit
Feel like a fuckin' missle when they hit
And i advice you to stay on the lurk
Cause if you funkin' with my niggas
You gon put in some work, nigga
(chorus): 2x
(outro):
Yeah nigga
You knew you couldn't fuck wid this g
Would you wanna step to me
Fault, hoe, haha
Spiggedy one whippin' on that ass
Ant banks in the muthafuckin' house
My nigga omar
My nigga knocced out muthafucka drunk and shit
This nigga jamar lay down the muthafuckin' studio
Drunk in tha muthafucka
You know what i'm sayin'
But you know one thing
Everybody in this muthafucka's strapped
You know what i'm sayin'
And nobody comin' up short
So don't try to run away from my glock
Can't dodge 17 muthafuckin' shots
187 thousand g
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12. _ You Done Fucked Up
You fat ass pudgy muthafucka...yeah, what up now nigga?
How you gonna start some shit with the shit starter?
Knew you was a bitch the first time i saw ya
Walkin' around sucking on everybody's dick
Trying to get a deal but your records sound straight like shit
You was lucky to be signed with jive
They dropped your ass when your record stopped at 135
So next time you come at me nigga, ya best come clean
Have your ass using blood for listerine
So mister cb-4 blast a gangsta ass nigga
Heard you wanna squab with the clip and the trigga
Gangsta murderer, gangstaville and gangsta killa
I'll locc up and put a slug in ya nigga, what
Dont nobody record company want ya
You know ya done fucked up don't ya?
X4
Run nigga run
You can run nigga run but i'm gonna catch ya
You know i had to gat ya
Leave your body stiff like a statue
Wet ya, hit ya, get ya, split your ass down the middle
Like a swisha...
Sweet ass nigga talkin' shit
I'll shake your ass like a pit
I'm in love with this rap shit, it's all good
But bring your ass down to spiggity one neighborhood
Messy mob and leave a mess
As my ak chop that beef off your muthafuckin chest
Don't nobody record label want ya
You know you done fucked up don't ya?
X5
You gonna be wearin' your ass for a hat
Cause i'm gonna shoot your dick out your ass crack
Nigga, you're fuckin' with tha straight up gangsta mack
Pop, pop, pop
Keep talking that punk ass shit and ya won't live to
See your album drop
All your songs is rinky dinky
Just a fat ass nigga who had one too many twinkies
And i'm gonna watch that belly explode
When i catch ya in the street, unload the 4-5 and reload
Bend over and the hoes will laugh
Cause you show a big fat stanky crack in that ass
Don't nobody record company want ya
You know you done fucked up don't ya?
Spoken:
Listen here you little bitch made muthafucka
I'm gonna ask you some simple questions and i want
Some simple motherfuckin answers
You said you was a jive artist, is that true?
"well man, yeah i was a jive artist you know, and uh,
I was signed to them, but uh, um"
Is you or isn't you a jive artist?
"umm, well, uhh, you know, i really don't know,. i was
Or uhh i am one, yeah"
Well motherfucker let me ask you this here, like i
Said simple questions simple answers
You said you sold 500,000 units
"i sold somethin' like that you know"
500?
"no, uhhh"
400?
"umm, well"
200?
"ummm"
100?
"uhhh, a litle bit more than that"
Talkin' that shit you know you done fucked up don't ya?
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13. _ Tell Me What That Mail Like
(intro):
Yeah, what's up fool
9-4, spice 1
Kickin' that g shit
Tell me what that mail like nigga
Wanna make money
This one or get smoked
(verse 1):
Push it in push it out
And i be the nigga with the muthafuckin' glock
Yeah, shoulda knew it was a baller muthafuckin' g
Hoppin' out a goddamn 94 cherokee
Dumpin' shit like a muthafuckin' cooper scoop a
Nigga off his feet with the millami the ruger
So tell me what that mail like
I keep processin' of the yea for cells [?] tell like
Throw away gats bubble gum pimps
And 2 dollar bitches on my nut sack
And it was all a part of being young
My little nuts hung
Fascinated by the tommy gun
Niggas throwin' up sets this is murder tonight
But fuck that shit nigga
Tell me what that mail like
[ talkin ]
Tell me what that mail like
(verse 2):
Po-po's wanna quiet me
Cause i was tearin' up shit like the muthafuckin' liar g
Wax and tat's from my nigga andrew jackson
Movin' ki's in large fractions
And this is the american dream
To a young muthafucka age 13 to 19
He used to be my best friend
But the system got us bustin' at each other over franklin
And that little white bitch got the whole world smoked up
And then it be causin' them niggas to loc up
Smokin' muthafuckas cause they asked me :
Ay, nigga, do your momma smoke d
That's the shit i gotta deal with
Real last niggas can you feel it
Tell me what that mail like
[ talkin ]
Tell me what that mail like
(verse 3):
Gotta live up to my rap as a g
Still countin' mail age 23
See me and franklin they can't stop us
And now i got no friends i done smoked all my patnas
I never thought that the money will definitely kill ya'll
4 lil' young muthafuckas robbin' liquor stores
It's all good patna get your cash
Till one of them got panicky and started to blast
I took 2 to the chest and 1 to the gut
Lyin' on the ground confused as fucked
I guess it had to take the bullet
To prove that the way i grew up was bullshit
Lucky for me i had my vest on
Cause i wouldn't look too gritty with my chest gone
Fool, and i'm back i'll be slangin' them d
Got a nut in my pocket way unleased a g
See i'm a soldier in the shit you can tell right, nigga
So tell me what that mail like
[ talkin ]
Tell me what that mail like
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14. _ You Can Get The Gat For That
You can get the gat for this
And you can get the gat for that
(chorus)
Niggaz wonder why s-p-i do or die
I don't give a fuck, i'm just a nigga stayin high
So why do you roll with a strap on ya side
Cause these playin hatin niggaz wanna jack me for my rizzide
Niggaz wonder why s-p-i do or die
I'm just a young nigga and i'm tryin to get my cash on
So why do you roll with a strap on ya side
Cause if shit'll get too funky i might have to get my blast on
It goes 1 for the treble, 2 for the funk
Time to get my motherfuckin 12 gauge pump
I blast off like nasa, as i rolls right past ya
Bust a couple a caps and leave ya ghost like casper
I peels caps like bad, comes wicked like iz
They make me hollow tipped and then they seal it with a kizz
For them bootsie motherfuckers that be ridin around
Hidin around the corner tryin to get a motherfucker down
Wearin his adams apple like a fuckin snapple
Dismantle motherfuckers, and hear they bodies crackle
Laugh like a jackel as i tackle they ass
With a fury of them buckshots, crackin they mask
Kinda skip the drama, puts bodies in freezers like jeffrey dahmer
You can get the gat for that kidnap your mama
The big mack from the itty-bitty city
Niggaz actin shitty so i licks em with my nitty
(chorus)
Stick that nigga, i told my dj xtra large
As we pull some niggaz car up out his own garage
I stack them niggaz up in them hearses like a can a sardines
2000 dollars a body, i'm for hire if you got the green
"ya got the mad buy, my millimeter to say
187, comin wicked leavin black much day"
I don't be fuckin with them niggaz who be shady n shit
Better stock that grip and an extra clip and a bottle a hindu to sip on
Trip on this nigga that's leavin' em dead in the alley
Whats your murder penal code? 781 here in cali
Red rum, we hit'cha and we give ya some
See mosta these niggaz up in my set, we bustin dum-dums
My uzi eats em up and spits em out, fuck a title bout
I'm pullin my gat up out a fist fight with out a doubt
Cause i ain't playin, fightin is fuckin around
I'd rather bust and leave your ass 6 feet up under ground
(chorus)
(g-nut)
Yeah, its the g-motherfuckin nizzo, that nappy headed nigga
They got me lookin up over my shoulder now man
I gotta strap
I ain't be shady, playa hataz hate me
Bitches snitchin, heh, it really ain't the same
But um, spice told me once, him and dj xtra large, they told me
That i can get the strap for this
And that i can get the strap for that
And that's what the fuck i'm gone do
I'm out this bitch man
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15. _ Face Of A Desperate Man
[ verse 1 ]
Smellin stale fresh out the county jail
Coppers gave me hell in a cell
But now its mo' murder to make mail
They thought my heart was playin life at a different pitch
But i stick to the scrip
Dump a snitch in a ditch
Its 94 i came to be fuckin around
Paranoia of a jack so i'm quick to draw down
The only way i gets my mail is to be off in your ass
With a ak or a uzi screamin : give me your cash nigga
So back to fuck on up
Cause can't nobody stop this nigga to sellin a d thats raw and uncut
Fuckin over fiends
Laughin in their faces sellin ?soap? to niggas can die anyday
Niggas come showed off in them jacks g
Another homie eyes wide open dead in my backseat
We never thought that they would get him
My nigga was like a soldier we'd never knew that the bullet hit him
Thought to myself was cocaine with my homie's life
He picked the crime do or die now he pays the price
To look in struggle on his face with his gat in his hand
My nigga died
With the face of a desperate man
[ chorus ] 2 x
So we can tear this face
We can tear this face
The face of a desperate man , gyeah-man
Butabyebye butabyebyebang butabyebyebangbo
So we can tear his face when him smokin the endo
Butabyebye
[ verse 2 ]
Check motherfuckin 1 check 1-2
I gotta gets my mail thats what i gotta do
And don't nobody run up on me
Cause franklin and grant is my only motherfuckin homie
I made a deal with the devil and sold my soul
Through about o.e. and fourteen-years old
Young hog ass nigga never ever saw of
Got me a strap and learned not to shoot my brolls of
And all the youngsters sneakin pass the bottle
Because the g's , pimps and hustlers was the motherfuckin role model
And everytime we had a house party
Was just the chance for a nigga to see another nigga's dead body
And nobody stayed around for sequels
Cause the nigga that was bustin was spreadin bullets around equal
Now they mobbin
I'm seein sparks hearin shots
Pistol's popped
Another motherfucker flopped
On the ass first up by the 44
Flatline ambulance put him in the door
Loud screams from his homies yellin imma smoke 'em
Feelin bad cause his partners on blood joke 'em
A touchin scene niggas screamin in the rain
Looked in his homeboy's face
His homie said his name
Now he'd be lookin for that nigga with the gat and
Ready for that redrum
With the face of a desperate man
[ chorus ]
94 is gettin hot style nigga
I gotta watch my shit mug on my face nigga ?? dog mean bitch
I'm muggin every nigga that be walkin by
Is it true can his hand be quicker than my eye
I'm wonderin if i gotta pull out my steel
Cause motherfuckers they can feel me they will look at me real
So , flow to the motherfuckin 4
If i have to let 'em know not to play me like a hoe
Cause i sticks to the g code
I unloads the clizip and ease on down the road
1 and 1 spice only
I do my dirt about my motherfuckin lonely ( by myself nigga )
[ chorus ]
94
Spiggedy 1 with up on that ass
Yeah
Mean muggin every nigga that ride by
Face of a desperate man nigga
I gots to gets mine
So if you try to take my shit
Quick to bust a cap in that ass
94
Bloooooow
Formally like that
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Dansk 
