2Pac – Thug Style Lyrics

2Pac – Thug Style Lyrics
Thug Style
2Pac
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    Thug Style Album Art
    "Thug Style." - 2Pac

    Album: R U Still Down? (Remember Me)
    Track No: 05
    Fuck 2Pac, that **** ain't shit
    That **** ain't from motherfuckin' New York
    That **** be out there with them Cali ****
    Yo **** man, fuck 'Pac, that **** West Coast
    They can't fuck with us, always with them New York ****
    Seen them with that ****, man, that **** ain't from the West Coast
    Man fuck 'Pac, fuck that ****, that **** ain't really down
    Rapin' ass **** I didn't do it fuck it with that ****
    Fuck that **** man, let that **** go to jail, alright
    And fuck that ****, fuck that ****, fuck you too, ****
    Thug style out this motherfucker, ****, throw ya hands in the air
    If you got Jeep make ya speakers pop
    I want motherfuckin' police tryna pull **** over on this one
    We takin' this one to the whole another level, gutter style, thug style
    You feel me, things that we can only do as a real G
    We ain't dead yet
    Hit me, I got my Hennessy find ya foes
    In a room full of **** tryna hide ya hoes
    I'm gettin' high off Buddha 'cause the times be slow
    I keep my mind on dough, you never find me broke
    And who me? A **** livin' life like a G
    In that artillery keepin' **** off of me
    I can't sleep livin' in these wicked times, peep
    **** after me 'cause they see I'm stackin' G's and heat
    You can holler if you want to, please
    I ain't runnin' with no punk crew, bleed
    Enemies and my range is on, you're in the danger zone
    My fuckin' game is strong, hotline
    You suckas better find ya mind, I got mine
    From hustlin' and bustin' them rhymes
    To my **** up in Quentin, down on Rikers Isle
    Stay rile, but a **** gotta use his style
    These, **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the cross, but my force was wild
    Bitch-made ass **** don't know my style
    These **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the cross, but my force was wild
    Bitch-made ass **** don't know my style
    I could be wrong but I never got along with cops
    It's like they stuck from makin' **** duck from Glocks
    And all the time, my mind's full of thoughts of ends
    I'm still rollin' my bucket but I bought me a Benz (Tadow)
    My fake friends say that they love me but I know they lie
    'Cause in the dark see they hearts full of homicide
    My mama cried when they took me off to jail
    Only me inside the cell, straight locked up in this hell
    I hear some sucker screamin' like the demon's inside
    Will 'em away in the mornin', only the strong survive
    I cry, but in my own way swallow my pride
    Pick a reason to hide from all the **** that die
    Cemetery full of brothers I buried, it's goin' down
    Even now I wonder will I still be around
    My hometown is the gutter, I was born a wild
    I came up out this dust with my heartless style
    These **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the cross, but my force was wild
    Bitch-made ass **** don't know my style
    These **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the cross, but my force was wild
    Bitch-made ass **** don't know my style
    I remember Uptown, run catch a kiss, listenin' to Mr. Magic
    Cuttin' up the hits and even though I had a habit
    Makin' words rhyme I was caught up in the madness
    Juvenile thugs, come on, I tell the whole story, nothin' but truth
    Halloween throwin' eggs from the project roofs
    And Pete and Lee young G's with a gift of gab
    Tryna look up with the hookers who was quick to stab
    Remember mama's cookin', no school, straight hookin'
    And tryna get with light skinned 'cause she good lookin'
    And jumpin' over turnstiles 'cause we ain't payin'
    Call the cuties cuss words but we only playin'
    I'm prayin' I can get a buck no luck
    I had to move around a lot 'cause my moms was stuck
    I had family but I was way too wild
    Had to move to the West to regain my style
    These **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the cross, but my force was wild
    Bitch-made ass **** don't know my style
    Scream, **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the cross, but my force was wild
    Bitch-made ass **** don't know my style
    Scream, **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the cross, but my force was wild
    Bitch-made ass **** don't know my style
    Scream, **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the cross, but my force was wild
    Bitch-made ass **** don't know my style
    Scream, **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the cross, but my force was wild
    Bitch-made ass **** don't know my style
    These **** don't know my style
    Quick to smile, juvenile, was a problem child
    Tryna put me in the motherfuckin' cross, but my force was wild
    Motherfuckin' bitches

    Writer(s): 2Pac, Malcolm Greenidge, K. Cox, Chris Rosser & Conrad Rosser.

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