2pac

2pac - My Own Style lyrics

rate me

(feat. Greg Nice)

Old jealous ass mother fuckers

Yo Pac baby whatsup

They'd love to see me in my mafuckin casket

Whats up my nigga, Greg mothafuckin Nice

It aint happenin

That new?

Yea

Thats one of them new Ben Franklins You countin there baby Pac?

We gotta get our cash man

Do it

We gotta get that money

West side and the east side

Ow man, this is how we do it

East west west east to south

I do it

Feel it? We're the fuckin realest

Do it

Ahhhh

How we... Our own styles

How we... Our own styles

... Our own styles

How we... Our own styles

How we... Our own styles

How we... Our own styles

How we... Our own styles

... Our own styles

Dont'cha love it

Tupac free shit that reach the public

Still I believe my speech so deep

That all my real niggas dub it

Ass naked rhymes

In these cash makin times

Got me losin my mind

Inside the lines of these wicked rhymes

Lable me a ghetto star

Coming up quick, shit

Fuck what you heard

We be runnin this shit

Its plain to see

My whole damn click shine bright

Always knew the real niggas'd end the shit

When the time was right

Now east to west its irrelevant

We doin it world wide

Haha, similar to bitches

Like girls they hide

They die slow

When I ride low bumpin this beat

I bury all bitch made niggas

Comin for me

I rock em to sleep

Then evade the cops

Hahahaha, never go alive

45 Blazin shots, still gettin mine

Livin blind, search for salvation

Still got my guns

But I visualize One Nation

My work is done

With my niggas, get they cash in stacks

Get yo ass on the cash chase

Mash in packs

Haha, forever ballin

That alcohol callin me

And I still bust on em all

Til they crawl to me

To all my hiphop junkies

And my niggas in jail

When this song play give em hell

My thug nation

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Uh...

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Uh...

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Yeah...

Ha.

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Enter make yourself welcome

Cause Edi is hostin

Rollin with niggas on the mash

Coast to coastin

We dont be boastin

Na

No high postin is allowed

Makaveli hit us a lick

And we set to make 20 thou

But its all gravy

Baby, we does this daily

It ain't amazin

Real niggas trail blazin

Man,

Stays in constant flow

Cause we gots to get it yo

Always had a passion for cash

So now its gettin critical

Digital display relays that on this day

The east coast west coast war is now history

Feel me

Then picture me rollin

With niggas from Hoboken to Oakland

Puttin it down

More potent than that shit you smokin

One Nation

Young Noble I'm calm and casual

Bomb like the average dude

The end be tragical

Televised, I'm nasty new

The revolution comin

What you gon be shootin or runnin

My crew was trained for gunnin

Soldier state your name and number

We racin Hummers

Tryn' to catch the sunset

We lake state runners

A hand full of death threats

So whats next? A war plan and a strategy

Battle me to the death

Theres no left

To hell with casualties

We made niggas under trainin

Trained triggers for the aimin

Jerzy claimin and ain't a damn thing changing

One Nation

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

OoohhaaaahhhHH

I been rockin mic's since Sergio Valente

Down for my people just like Kunta Kinte

Got more bodiqua mamis than Tito Peuente

My man tupac picked me up in the Bentley

They come from the East

Come to speak peace

They come from the West

Bring the buddha, bless

Come from the East

Come to speak peace

Come from the West

Bring the buddha, bless

It aint no muthafuckin hair off my chest

Times is hard I rock a bullet proof vest

Met so many yes men so many yes

They tried to gas my head like Hess

The heavenly father put me to the test

Divide and conquer, what I do best

Aint nothin to it but alleviate stress

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Peep out how we freak our own styles

Hahahaha

Shit, was it ever a war?

Aw man yo Pac this is all lovely baby

Only in your minds

Yeah nigga

Today we sign the treaty

East Side

All the real niggas rise

West side

Pay these motherfuckers

We ride nigga

Nobody tryin to be clashin and shit

World Wide

Motherfuckers tryin to get they cash

Greg Nice

Thats why we mash in this bitch

Tupac

So Ima just ride out on this mothafucka

Outlaws

Smith N Wesson

Let my Oakland peeps let you bitch made niggas know how we roll

Baby Jesus and them all stars

You know how we doin it

AhhHHHh

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Share your thoughts

1 Comments found

arab_dude
Wednesday 27th of January 2010 10:00
don't cahnge the lyrics guys, just listen again to the song here we have: "like the average dude" but in the song its: "like the arab dude"