2Pac – Fuck Friendz Lyrics

Fuck Friendz

2Pac

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"Fuck Friendz." - 2Pac

Thursday, 22 October 2026, 05:25 pm

Album: Until the End of Time

Track No: 02

Pawhoo hoo hoo hoo
I don't wanna be your man, bitch
(Fuck that)
What you crazy
I don't wanna be your fuckin' man
You stupid you fuckin' idiot
(Drunk ho)
I wanna be
Yo let me fuck that nigga down
What's that?
My ghetto love song hahaha
(Set it off, set it off)
Let's be friends
(Where my niggas at)
(Where my niggas, where my niggas)
I know you wanna fuck
(Where my niggas at?)
(All my real niggas throw your muthafuckin' hands up)
Let's be friends
Where my niggas, where my niggas
Hahahaha yeeeah
(Let's go lets go)
Let's be friends
(Throw ya hands in the air)
There's no need to front
(Let's see ya just throw ya hands in the air)
Let's be friends...
(Westside in this motherfucker right here, Westside)
(Throw ya hands in the air)

Approach you and post a minute, arm on my double-R tinted
As you pass by, winkin' my eye, freshly scented
What's the haps, baby? Come get with me and perhaps, lady
You can help me multiply my stacks, baby
Currency seems small, I need companionship

Through with that scandalous shit, I bet your man ain't shit
So why you hesitatin', actin' like yo' shit don't stink?
Check out my diamonds, bitch, everyone gon' blink
This be a thug thang, Outlaw nigga with riches
Cream dreamin', motherfucker, on a mash for bitches
Check my résumé, sippin' on Cristal and Alize
Smokin' on big weed, keyed the Cali way
Don't like trickin', but I'll buy you a fit
I can't stand no sneaker-wearin' nappy head bitch
Let my pedigree, read briefly, this O.G
Puttin' bitch-made bustas to sleep with no grief
Mash on my so-called car, who the man?
While I'm tuggin' on your main bitch head
Understand this: Ain't no nigga like me, fuck Jay Z!
He broke and I smoke daily, baby, let's be

Let's be friends (where my niggas? Where my niggas at come on)
You ain't gotta be my man at all
Long as you just bring me your friends (all my niggas, where my hoes at?)
Why you trickin' on them other hoes?
Let's be friends (Where the bitches at who want niggas with money?)
You ain't gotta be my man at all (Where you at, baby?)
Long as you just bring me your friends (cash makin' hoes)
Why you trickin' on them other hoes? Let's be-

I met you and I stuttered in passion
Though slightly blinded by that ass
It was hard to keep my dick in my pants, every time you pass
Got me checkin' for you hardcore, starin' and watchin'
Me and you, one on one, picture countless options
Was if prophecy clear as day, visions on top of me
Erotic, psychotic, when possess by bodies
Far from a crush, I wanna bust your guts
And touch everything inside you from my head to my nuts
You got me sweatin' like a fat girl goin' for mine
Just a skinny nigga fuckin' like she stole my mind
Back in time, I recall how she used to be
I guess money and fame made you used to me
What's up in '9-6? Find tricks in drag
Fuck Dre! Tell that bitch he can kiss my ass!
Back to you, my pretty-ass caramel queen
Got my hands on your thighs, now let me in-between as friends

Friends (Westside, motherfucker, right here)
You ain't gotta be my man at all
Long as you just bring me your friends (Westside in this motherfucker)
Why you trickin' on them other hoes?
Let's be friends (Westside in this motherfucker right here)
You ain't gotta be my man at all
Long as you just bring me your friends (in this motherfucker right here)
Why you trickin' on them other hoes?

Can you imagine me in player mode, rush the tricks
I got her ready for a booty call, I fucked your bitch
Was it me or the fame, my dick or the game
Bet I scream 'Westside' when I came
Scream my name because, baby, it's delicious
Got a weak spot for pretty bitches
Up and down, similar to switches
My movement, baby, let your back dip into it, make it fluid
In and out, all around when a nigga do it
You've got me high, let me come inside!
I love it when you get on top, baby let me ride!
Who wanna stop me? Am I top notch?
Fuck player hatin' niggas cuz they cockblock
You probably hate to see a real thug with vision, what's the game?
Rather see a nigga up in prison, why you change?
Made a living out of cuss words, liquor and weed
A bad seed turned good in this world of G's
Baby's got me fantasizin', seein' you naked
It's a fuck song, now check the record
Let's be friends! Where my niggas at? Show me where my niggas at?
Where my bitches at? Thug style

Let's be friends (where my niggas at? Where my bitches at?)
(Throw yo' guns in the air)
Friends
(My ghetto love song, it goes on and on and on and on)
Let's be friends
(Where my niggas at? Where my bitches at?) You ain't gotta front with me
(Where my niggas at?)
Friends
(Where my niggas at? Where my bitches at?) I know what you want
(Where my people at? Let's be-)

Where my people at? Show me where my people at
Where my people at? Show me where my people at
All my niggas now, just my niggas come
Where my niggas at? Just my niggas now
Be friends, tell me where my niggas at
Be friends, tell me where my bitches at
Be friends, tell me where my people at
Make money, take money, be friends

Friends (get your cash on, let's get dough)
You ain't gotta be my man at all
Long as you just bring me your friends (come on, get your cash on)
Why you trickin' on them other hoes? (Uh, let's get paid)
Let's be friends (uh, come on, get your cash on)
You ain't gotta be my man at all (let's get paid)
Long as you just bring me your friends (come on, get your cash on!)
Why you trickin' on them other hoes? (let's get paid)
Let's be friends

Make money, take money
Make money, take money
Make money, take money
Make money, take money
Make money, take money

Writer(s): Quincy Jones, 2Pac & Sean P. Young.

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