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2pac - till my dying day كلمات الأغنية

[intro: 2pac & aunt glo]
i’m so sick of m-th-f-ckas askin’ me
how our parents feel about us
calling these hoes b-tches
so aunt glo
why don’t you tell them how we do it
(in the late night)
i’m tired of these b-tches calling my house
asking for the young thugz
(in the late night)
young thugz ain’t got time for no b-tches
they trying to get rich
stop calling
(in the late now)
(come on aunt glo)
(that’s word from my auntie n-gg-)
baby!
[verse 1: outlawz]

[e.d.i mean]
now it’s been a long, day
i’m straight hustling to getting pay
but now it’s evening, and i’m scheming of play
i got a call, from that dogg n-gg- k

[kastro]
and i was bored, so n-gg- i’ll be on my way
who got the hoes? young hollywood? i think he might
and i suppose, n-gg- we up in the night

[kadafi]
that’s right them b-tches be staring
with lil moo in the cut and that n-gg- all in

[napoeon]
so what the f-cking drink had me tripping
but i’ll be d-mned if i let another motherf-cker catch me slipping
we in the car n-gg-

[kadafi]
be in the drive way
because the night is young and i’m ready to hit the highway
and now we all for that
these night call’s we strapped
you know how n-gg-s be black

[e.d.i mean]
now we smoking weed that we need it
so let’s get the game right
and baked tight in the late night

[hook: 2pac]
preoccupied with
straight balling, can you hear the liquor calling
i’m sick of hoes n-gg- f-ck ’em all
(in the late night)
everyday is a bit of play
getting paid, thug n-gg- ’til i see my dying day
preoccupied with
straight balling, can you hear the liquor calling
i’m sick of hoes n-gg- f-ck ’em all
(in the late night)
everyday is a bit of play
getting paid, thug n-gg- ’til i see my dying day
[verse 2: outlawz]

[kadafi]
now it’s 2.0.6. tell me
who the f-ck i’m having s-x with
gaming these cousin’s in the lexus from texas

[kastro]
expect to last past 6 ’cause i’m restless
my head blasted off this sess that i mess with

[e.d.i mean]
the best, click is who we choose so we making moves
ain’t in no mood for no faking moves
so is it true?
i’m asking now
’cause if not, you and your crew could be stashed and out

[napoleon]
without a doubt
these b-tches know we do it right
f-ck and bust a nut
that’s how we do it on the late night
[verse 3: 2pac]

b-tches don’t even have a clue
i keep up with my scandalous crew
boxes of blunts and brew, well can you handle this too?
step up and let me put this pimping in your ear
the game is clear
this place is packed, let’s disappear
now we can hit the highway and go to my place
but be cautious
once we arrive can i toss it?
no hesitation, this fornication and situation
f-cking these hoes up to the attic, back down to the bas-m-nt
no replacement, i hit you with a piece then i flee
back to the streets is how i do it, ain’t no peace for a g
and my motto, a blunt some coochie and a cold bottle
i’m f-cking them hoochies and the supermodels
the game is deep, i can’t sleep ’cause there’s c-m on my sheets
sampling b-tches like a break beat, the liquor makes me
and when it’s late i’m like a convict that just escaped
hitting these hoochies ’til they break, in the late night

[hook: 2pac]
(in the late night)
straight balling, can you hear the liquor calling?
i’m sick of hoes n-gg- f-ck ’em all (in the late night)
everyday is a bit of play, getting paper, thug n-gg- ’til i see my dying day (this is how we do it)
preoccupied with
straight balling, can you hear the liquor calling?
i’m sick of hoes n-gg- f-ck ’em all
everyday is a bit of play, getting paper, thug n-gg- ’til i see my dying day
preoccupied with
straight balling, can you hear the liquor calling?
i’m sick of hoes n-gg- f-ck ’em all
everyday is a bit of play, getting paper, thug n-gg- ’til i see my dying day
preoccupied with, straight balling, can you hear the liquor calling?
i’m sick of hoes n-gg- f-ck ’em all
everyday is a bit of play, getting paper, thug n-gg- ’til i see my dying day

[outro: 2pac]
thug life n-gg-
young thugz, young thugz, thug sisters
the whole m-th-f-ckin’ thug nation
you know see, keep your head up
keep your motherf-ckin money in you pocket
no m-th-f-ckin’ mercy, no m-th-f-ckin’ mercy

- 2pac

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