2pac - Tha cypher lyrics

[Biggie smalls] (Verse1) Money, hoes, and clothes Blunt smoke coming out the nose, is all a n***a knows Flipping on foes, putting tags on toes Watching the stash grow, clocking the cashflow The neighborhood gravedigger Getting paid so much, all the b**hes want to see a n***a I guess they figure I'm paid, I want to get laid Or since I got loot, I want to knock boots I'd rather beat my dick than trick And if she don't s**, then we don't f** I'd rather make a buck, drive a fat-a** truck Grab the 9, two clips, and run amuck Yes, flex at the two or three Benzes I wreck sh**, what the f** you expected? A fly guy? Well f** it, I'm the high guy From Bed-Stuy, putting the swelling on your eye And your nose even; when I choke ya, you stop breathing And when Jake come, I'm leaving [Biggie smalls] (Verse2) When we smoke spliffs, we pack four-fifths Just in case Dread want to riff He get a free lift to the cemetary, rough very Not your ordinary: we watch you get buried That's a real n***a for ya Get mad, do a quarter, flip the script, and rip your lawyer Spit at the DA, cause f** what she say She don't give a f** about your a** anyway Back up chump, you know Biggie Smalls rips it quick And kicks it quick; you know how black n***as get With the hoods, fatigues with the boots with trees Smokin weed, flippin ki's, making crazy G's Hitting buckshots at n***as that open spots On the avenue--take my loot, and I'm bagging you Pimping hoes that drive Volvos and Rodeos Flash the roll, make her wet in her pantyhose Damn, a n***a's style is unorthodox Grip the Glock, when I walk down the crowded blocks Just in case a n***a want to act out I just black out, and blow they motherf**ing back out That's a real n***a for ya [2pac] (Verse3) Im stuck in jail the DA's tryin' to burn me I'd be out on bail, If I had a good attorney Wanna label me a criminal and cuff me up Got a pocket full of money so they rough me up I ain't trippin' in the county and im mad as f** Got a record so they put me with the baddest bunch Everybody wanna talk cause im rappin' They asking me what happend Is it true you did a flick with Janet Jackson? I can't sleep they taking polaroids And im tryna' use the phone but they making noise Man I wish I had my Glock cause its major Im making shanks out the plastics in razors These motherf**ers won't, leave me alone thats my word 'Bout to turn a violation to a motherf**ing murder Im making collect calls to my old b**hes Send mo' pictures, and make me some mo' riches To all the s**ers on the block, talking sh** while I was locked up Be prepared to be socked up Cause the game is deep, and the fame is brief And you bullsh**ting b**hes ain't changing me I came straight up out of gutta' I was saved from hell Im a thug I was raised in jail, now im out on bail