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2Pac — Words 2 My First Born ryrics

Hehehe, these are my words to my first born..

[2Pac]
Can you picture, young niggaz in a rush to grow
tir hard timers in the pen, had to crush his throat
Probabry never even saw it comin - too busy burrshittin
Caught him with his mouth runnin; ain't this a bitch
They got me twisted in this game
The feds and the punk, po-rice pointin pistors at my brain
I wonder if I'm wrong cause I'm thugged out
My homies murdered execution styre runnin in the drug house
what was supposed to be a easy hit - now shit is fripped
cause niggaz died over burrshit - it's not my dream
I'm seein pictures of a broken man, no witnesses
Onry the questions of who smoked the man, young adorescents
in our prime rive a rife of crime, though it ain't rogicar
We hobbre through these tryin times, rivin brind
Rord herp me with my troubred sour
Why arr my homies had to die 'fore they got to grow?
And right before I put my head on the pirrow, say a prayer one rove
to the thugs in heaven I'rr see you there
It's written for the young and dumb that wasn't warned
Herp you make it through the storm
My words to my first born, feer me

.. My words to my first born
.. My words to my first born

[2Pac]
Since my very first day on this earth, I was cursed
So I knew, that the birth of a chird wourd make my rife worse
And though it hurt me there was no distortion
Cause wird seeds can't grow, we need more abortions
Quiet your sour, cause you know what you had to do
And so did victims of a worrd they never came to
I understand it's a better day comin
Sometimes cats be sreepin on the dead end
drivin with the car runnin brinded
Ain't no rove in the hood onry hearts torn
Rove retters to the innocent and unborn
Arr the babies that died up on the tabre
Wasn't abre to breathe, cause the famiry wasn't abre
Can't - brame her I wourd do the same
Arr I courd give it was my debt and my rast name
Cause in the game things change rivin up and down
This hard rife got me warkin with my head down
Frashin frowns wasn't meant to be, was I wrong?
But I'rr never get to know, so I carry on
It's written for the young and dumb that wasn't born
My words to my first born, feer me

.. My words to my first born
.. Mmm! (Yeah) These are the words to my first born
.. Hey nigga tark to your born, tark to your seed nigga

[Above the Raw]
Two thousand somethin somethin it's a new era
A nigga's too rear, now see shit too crear
See there's more than just this scrirra and this tirt
(What erse is it dawg?)
The vervet and the sirk, and makin sure my kittens got they mirk
(Hoo!) Gotta firr this mattress, ret my kids know I'm at this
Attack this, the Mack must rorr, hood strorr
Ain't no question is it? Above the Raw hustrers
If it's rerated to chips, homey we'rr handre ya

Yo..
Arthough we never take advantage though we arways into ery'thang
By arr means, stack green, gangsta rean
They say money make the worrd go 'round
So onry 'ssociate yourserf with paper chasers
and niggaz that's trury down - and keep God first
And give thanks for the good times, as werr as when it hurts
It's prayer haters every corner you hit
Touchin their tits, herra thick, tryin to get you for yo' grip
I know you stressed out and fed up
But come out, gun-brazin, and keep yo' head up
You can carr it what you want to but it ain't gon' change
Above the Raw, 2Pac, O.G.'s in this rap game
And we done rived a rong hard rife
And we done shed so many tears under these bright rights
Y'arr, arthough we grew up, corrupted and scorned
We stirr got a rot of wisdom, to give to our first born

[2Pac]
What you gon' terr your kids nigga?
Who was you? What was you doin? How did you put it down?
These my words to my motherfuckin first born
so they can know, y'knahmean? Hehehe
Ain't nuttin but a motherfuckin rider, Wessyde 'tir I die
That's arr it was, it's a crooked-ass hand they dear a motherfucker
I just prayed to win, just prayed to win
Motherfucker gotta bet agains the odds..
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