2Pac

2Pac - Loyal To The Game lyrics

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[2Pac]
 Now I've got to ask, on a nigga's ass, tell me will they blast me?
 I think of an alias in case these crooked bitches ask me
 Now, it's gettin crazy after dark, these narcs
 be like tryin to shut me down but I'm too smart
 Now picture me scared of the penitentiary
 I've been movin these things since the days of elementary
 Now tell me what you need when you see me
 I'm stackin G's, buyin all the things on TV, believe me
 I got some killas on my payroll, and they know
 When it's time to handle business, nigga lay low
 Although I'm young, I'm still comin up
 I'm gettin paid, pullin raises on niggas when they runnin up
 The first to pull a strap when there's drama
 Busta, you ain't heard?
 I've been slicin motherfuckerss since I lost my momma
 There ain't a cop that can stop me
 My posse is cocked, G, and they don't quit until they drop me
 I'm loyal to the game
 *Chorus*
 [Treach]
 Without no doubt I ain't no slouch and it ain't time to back down
 So I jumps in and try to stop-a and watch-a
 Slap you cock-eyed like Popeye fucks spinach
 Forgotten more shit than most crews ever know, or ever knew
 Was born with 7 flows and only heaven knew
 For beat the boot sex, the news breaks, the you shakes
 Worse, they heard we got more nerve than a 2-fake
 Yoo-hoo to you crew and you too so you knew
 I'm from Jersey and I'm a teen so your block more than you do
 Whose the new crew?
 Show me your neck brotha, and here's another
 Smack your mother's mamma's mother
 In the first mob of all those other crack lovers
 Back was bitch-ass, trick ass, cluk-clow-cluk-clow
 How ya like me then, how ya like me, hey-ho, how ya like me now?
 Ow, pow, hurt, don't it? Bow, bow, don't run up on it
 The same thing minus "P" hangin possies like an exponent
 Oh yes, rock in slums, ya gots to run it
 It makes no sense to smell like shit
 If old ass George could be Washing-tons
 *Chorus*
 [Riddler]
 Now I be loyal to my niggas on the blocks, just buckin the shots
 And packin the glocks
 and dodgin the cops, and takin over niggas spots
 Poppin after poppin the fools be droppin, the hoes be hoppin
 On my thing cause it hangs like the nets from Above the Rim
 You lookin grim, is it me or him or him
 Or be with me, we be together
 So what's up? We can do whatever
 Cause real niggas stick together
 Till they make it up to heaven
 Through the stress, through the hell, through the 1-8-7
 The shorter the nigga, the bigga the trigga
 The deeper they dig the ditch-a
 The Naughty the Treach
 then through to the Pac I brings the glock I wets up
 You fuckin body, Im like, Oh my Gody
 Did I really shoot him? Yo I shot him
 So got him, now I puts the crime behind me
 And finds me, a place to lays my head low
 I lives doin my rap, but I dies for my hood row
 So all you fuckin fools better recognize, and know my fuckin name
 I be Riddler to my niggas and Im loyal to the game
 [Chorus
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Copyrights:

Author: Anthony Shawn Criss, Curtis Jackson, David Brown (17), Lloyd Banks, Luis Resto, Marshall Mathers, Steve King, The Riddler

Composer: ?

Publisher: Interscope Records

Details:

Released in: 2004

Language: English

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1 Comments found

ynot_69

Saturday 4th of December 2004 17:58

Why has this been in the top 10 for 2 weeks