FluffyEyes
Mrs. Boss Lady
EVERYTIME I SEE YOOOUUUU I GET A BAD VIIIIIIIIIIBBE
Avant pulled no punches.
Avant pulled no punches.
What's the best opening lines in a song??
- Thread starter FluffyEyes
- Start date
Complexion
ʇdᴉɹɔsǝɥʇdᴉlɟ
Pac owns this thread.
I ain't a killer, but don't push me. Revenge is like the sweetest joy next to gettin puzzy
So many battlefield scars whilst driven in plush cars. This life as rap star is nothin without gawd
Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice. I say the darker the flesh, then the deeper the roots
They say puzzy and paper is poetry, power and pistols. Plotting on murdering motherfukkers 'fore they get you
I bet you got it twisted you don't know who to trust. So many playa hatin' nikkas tryin' to sound like us
Now we was once two nikkas of the same kind. Quick to holla at a hoochie with the same line
I ain't a killer, but don't push me. Revenge is like the sweetest joy next to gettin puzzy
So many battlefield scars whilst driven in plush cars. This life as rap star is nothin without gawd
Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice. I say the darker the flesh, then the deeper the roots
They say puzzy and paper is poetry, power and pistols. Plotting on murdering motherfukkers 'fore they get you
I bet you got it twisted you don't know who to trust. So many playa hatin' nikkas tryin' to sound like us
Now we was once two nikkas of the same kind. Quick to holla at a hoochie with the same line
This a PAC tribute thread now 
"My family tree, consists of drug dealers, thugs and killers
Struggling, known to hustle screamin' fukk they feelings"
"'Cause all I see is, murder murder, my mind state
Preoccupied with homicide, tryin' to survive through this crime rate"
"My family tree, consists of drug dealers, thugs and killers
Struggling, known to hustle screamin' fukk they feelings"
"'Cause all I see is, murder murder, my mind state
Preoccupied with homicide, tryin' to survive through this crime rate"
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InGodWeTrust
Tall & Handsome in ATL
"True motherfukkers know, this be the realist shyt I ever wrote..."
Complexion
ʇdᴉɹɔsǝɥʇdᴉlɟ
This a PAC tribute thread now
In two bars he could set the tone so perfectly. Pretty much every single song was an exercise in brevity whilst still maintaining high impact and total emotional coherency but the openings always caught your ear without even trying and let you know what was coming.
Pacs verses with the ground running each time and then took you on a flight.
Complexion
ʇdᴉɹɔsǝɥʇdᴉlɟ
I hear Brenda's got a baby. But Brenda's barely got a brain
Back in elementary, I thrived on misery. Left me alone I grew up amongst a dying breed
Now how can I explain how this game laced me, plus with this fame I got enemies do anything to break me, my attitude changed
I smoke a blunt to take the pain out and if I wasn't high, I'd probably try to blow my brains out
When I was young, me and my mama had beef. 17 years old, kicked out on the streets
I take a shot of Hennessy, now I'm strong enough to face the madness. Nickel bag full of cess weed laced with hash
My adversaries cry like hoes fully eradicate my foes. My lyrics explode on contact, gamin' you hoes
Perhaps I was blind to the facts, stabbed in the back. I couldn't trust my own homies, just a bunch of dirty rats
Are you confused? You wonder how it feels to walk a mile inside the shoes of a nikka who don't have a thing to lose
My family tree consists of drug dealers, thugs and killers. Strugglin', known to hustle screaming, "fukk they feelings!"
I wake up early in the mornin', mind state so military. Suckers fantasizin' pictures of a young brother buried
Back in elementary, I thrived on misery. Left me alone I grew up amongst a dying breed
Now how can I explain how this game laced me, plus with this fame I got enemies do anything to break me, my attitude changed
I smoke a blunt to take the pain out and if I wasn't high, I'd probably try to blow my brains out
When I was young, me and my mama had beef. 17 years old, kicked out on the streets
I take a shot of Hennessy, now I'm strong enough to face the madness. Nickel bag full of cess weed laced with hash
My adversaries cry like hoes fully eradicate my foes. My lyrics explode on contact, gamin' you hoes
Perhaps I was blind to the facts, stabbed in the back. I couldn't trust my own homies, just a bunch of dirty rats
Are you confused? You wonder how it feels to walk a mile inside the shoes of a nikka who don't have a thing to lose
My family tree consists of drug dealers, thugs and killers. Strugglin', known to hustle screaming, "fukk they feelings!"
I wake up early in the mornin', mind state so military. Suckers fantasizin' pictures of a young brother buried
Pac was surgical with those opening bars
Give me my money in stacks and lace my bytches with dime figures
Real nikkas fingers on nickel-plated 9 triggers
FluffyEyes
Mrs. Boss Lady
Not y'all turning my thread into a Pac thread
I could never stand Avant btw, bootleg robert kelly.
Not y'all turning my thread into a Pac thread
FluffyEyes
Mrs. Boss Lady
Love that song!!!
