the rhyme king
truth.com
3000 smashin on damn near everyone lyrically includin everyone from NY not named Jay Z...
but Pac be on his shyt though
no insanity plea for me
I'll ride the beef till I burn
censor me and bar yo kids
from the lessons I learn
and in turn im hostile
guess you can call me antisocial
nikkaz shakin like they caught the holy ghost
when I approach em![]()
I'm clearly, a man of military means, and my artillery (outlaw)
Watchin' over me through every murder scene
From my adolescence, to early teens, tho' we was gonna die,
Sellin' dope to all the fiends, sometimes I wanna cry
Still, we try to change the past in vain
Never knowin' if this game will last, feelin' the shame
Cocaine, the product of the devil, (fukk that) am I sellin' my soul
Got a small time livin' nikka tellin' me no
I got mine, fukk them other suckas
That's the mentality, jealous ass bustas makin' hell for a hustler
pac getting his multisyllable rhyming on
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