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fytch - sideways lyrics
[intro]
early today as he left a party in los angeles, wallace, also known as biggie smalls was shot from a p-ssing vehicle
he had been named rap artist of the yea-
by shooting sat-rday night, that story tops our world headline
to promote peace, rapper 2pac shakur is also pictured in the mural
the two rappers were rumored to be rivals, but police say they are not aware of any connection in the murders
[verse 1: the notorious b.i.g.]
i’m flaming gats, aiming at, these…
maniacs put my name in rap
so part the game is that like it hustle backwards
i smoke blackwoods and dutchies you can’t touch me
try to rush me, slugs go touchy touchy
you bleeding lovely with your spirit above me
or beneath me your whole life you live sleepy
now you rest internally sleepy, you burn when you creep me
rest where the worms and the weak be
my nine flies baptize rap guys
with the holy ghost i put holes in most you hold your toast shaky
flip and try to break me, look what you made me do
brains blew my team in the marine-blue, six coupe
skied it out weed it out
cleaning out, the block for distances
giving long kisses
yeah… that’s right
baby
that’s how we do it
[verse 2: 2pac]
follow me, tell me if you feel me, i think n-ggas is tryna k!ll me
picturin’ pistols, spittin’ hollow points ’til they drill me
keepin’ it real, and even if i do conceal
my criminal thoughts, preoccupied with keepin’ steel
see n-ggas is false, sittin’ in court, turned snitches
that used to be real, but now they’re petrified b-tches
i’m tryna be strong, they sendin’ armies out to bomb me
listen to ron, the only dj that can calm me
constantly armed, my firepower keep me warm
i’m trapped in the storm, and f-ck the world ’til i’m gone
b-tches be warned, word is bond you’ll get torn
i’m bustin’ on guiliani, he rubbin’ my n-ggas wrong
and then it’s on, before i leave picture me
i’m spittin’ at punk b-tches and hustlin’ to be free
watch me set it, n-ggas don’t want it, you can get it
bet it make these jealous n-ggas mad i said it
this thug life, n-gga we don’t cater to you hoes
f-ck with me, have a hundred motherf-ckers at ya door with .44s
hahahahaha, yeah n-gga
thug life
[verse 3: the notorious b.i.g.]
how many shots does it take, to make my heart stop
and my body start to shake
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