Verse One: 2Pac
 I take a shot of Henessee now I'm strong enough to face the madness
 Nickel bag full of sess weed laced with hash
 Phone calls from my niggaz on the, other side
 Two childhood friends just died, I couldn't cry
 A damn shame, when will we ever change
 And what remains from a twelve gauge to the brain
 Arguements with my Boo is true
 I spend mo' time with my niggaz than I do with you
 But everywhere it's the same thang, that's the game
 I'll be damned if a thang changed, fuck the fame
 I'll be hustling to make a mill-ion, lord knows
 Ain't no love for us ghetto children, so we cold
 Rag top slowin down, time to stop for gas
 Beep my horn for a hoochie with a proper ass, uhh
 It ain't easy, that's my motto
 Drinkin Tanqueray straight out the bottle
 Everybody wanna know if I'm insane
 My baby mama gotta mind full of silly games
 And all the drama got me stressin like I'm hopeless, I can't cope
 Me and the homies smokin roaches, cause we broke
 Late night hangin out til the sunrise gettin high
 Watchin the cops roll by
 It ain't easy... that's right
 Chorus: 2Pac
 It ain't easy, being me
 Will I see the penitentiary, or will I stay free
 (repeat 3X)
 Verse Two: 2Pac
 I can't sleep niggaz plottin on to kill me while I'm dreamin
 Wake up sweaty and screamin, cause I can hear them suckers schemin
 Probably paranoid, problem is, them punks be fantasizin
 A brother bite the bullet, open fire and I died
 I wonder why this the way it is, even now
 Lookin out for these killer kids, cause they wild
 Bill Clinton can you recognize a nigga representin
 Doin twenty to life in San Quentin
 Gettin calls from my nigga Mike Tyson, ain't nuttin nice
 Yo 'Pac, do something righteous witcha life
 And even thou you innocent you still a nigga, so they figure
 Rather have you behind bars than triggers
 But I'm hold ya down and holla Thug Life, lickin shots
 Til I see my niggaz free on the block
 But no it ain't easy, hahahah
 Til I see my niggaz free, on the block, oh
 It ain't easy
 Chorus 2.75
 Verse Three: 2Pac
 Lately been reminiscin
 bout Peppermint Schnapps in Junior High hit the block
 Keep an eye on the cops while D-Boys slang rocks
 It's the project kid without a conscience, I'm havin dreams
 of hearin screams at my concerts, me all my childhood peers
 through the years tryin to stack a little green
 I was only seventeen, when I started servin fiends
 And I wish there was another way to stack a dollar
 So my apoli', casue these hard times make me wanna holler
 Will I live to see tommorrow, am I fallin off?
 I hit the weed and then proceed to say fuck all of y'all
 Ain't nobody down with me I'm thuggin, I can't go home
 Cause muh-fuckers think I'm buggin, so now I'm in
 this high powered cell at the county jail
 Punk judge got a grudge, can't post no bail, what
 do I do in these county blues
 Gettin battered and bruised by the you know who
 And these fakes get to shakin when they face me
 Snakes ain't got enough nuts to replace me
 Sittin in this, livin hell, listenin to niggaz yell
 Tryin to torture em to tell, I'm gettin mail
 But ain't nobody sayin much, the same old nuts
 is makin bucks while these sluts is gettin fucked
 They violated my probation, and it seems
 I'll be goin on a long vacation, meanwhile
 It ain't easy
 No it ain't easy
 Chorus
 Chorus