[2Pac yelling]
Guess who's back
Guess whos' back muthaf**a, big ballin' a** muthaf**in' Breed
Givin' you what ya need, yea, smokin' a gang of weed
Hit them fools n***a
[MC Breed]
Come one, come all
n***as get the beat down
Retreat, creep, or feel the heat of the Breed sound
Collect facts, then attack like I'm suppose to
Ya boy's goin', lef', on n***as and them hoes too
It's me, that n***a who ain't never got caught
My mic is wounded, I'ma test it with a touch of salt
Keep a book of the mark a** n***as I broke
Cause big Breed, can do ya while I'm smokin' my dope, try an' cope
Catch up as this sh** gets mental, this chronic got me workin' my brain
I need a pencil
So I can shake and change the style, but in the meanwhile
I maintain the crowd
Make moves to improve, so I can build a bigger rep
The trigger finger strapped, I wanna see another n***a step
I play the cards, lost by your dingy mista Gillagan
The mighty mad writer's straight up Comin' Real Again
[2Pac yelling]
Buck buck muthaf**a. Right at your muthaf**in' a**
This sh** too strong for a muthaf**in' vest
So watch your chest and your dome
Leave Breed the f** alone
We sendin' n***as to the f**in' cemetery
[Breed]
They got me thinkin'. Sittin' in the hot spot
I'm straight up havin' hard times wanting me a drop top
And a fat knot, and I ain't tryin' to hear that 5-0 sh**
I'm black, and I was born with a survival kit, uh
Ain't sh** but spit, in the beer that I'm drinkin'
I gotta get paid, I gotta get paid, and that's what a n***a be thinkin'
You sleep hoes, I'm puttin' a peep holes
In your forehead. Run till your toes is numb, go test your broke head
Breed's got n***as at your back once again punk
Told you ain't no future in that sh**, but you still front
When will they realize, I got the feel again
The mighty mad writer's Comin' Real Again
[2pac yelling]
Buck buck biiinnng
That's the motherf**in' sound as we buckin' mothaf**as down
Yea n***a, run but you count out race this motherf**in' bullet
Breed, pull it. They can't fade you boy
[Breed]
Once mo', toe to toe? I don't think so
Bird sales, and knockin' n***as out like Riddick Bowe
You ain't the play, you know the play so don't say sh**
Get 'em up and find your a** gettin' up off the pavement
Wavin' the sh**, beggin' n***as to just straight quit
But f** that, a hard head can get a n***as a** kicked
I ain't lettin' up for none...son
I'm Comin' Real Again
[2Pac yelling]
Yea motherf**a how you wanna play this sh**?
We can go toe to toe, Glock for Glock, block for block
Homie to muthaf**in' homie
But you muthaf**as gonna feel this n***a this time
Cause we ain't comin' back with that old bullsh**
There's too many muthaf**in' dead n***as for me to be takin' this here bullsh**
That's why there's muthaf**as in the pin now, n***a
So pull or quit that bullsh**, cause I don't wanna hear that muthaf**in' crap
Comin' Real Again n***a, thought I told you muthaf**as, I thought you knew
It's the muthaf**in' real sh** muthaf**a. 100 percent authentic
Type of sh** you f**in' get chronic'd out to, you know what I'm sayin'?
So do me one of them muthaf**in' favors, and light another f**in' blunt
You know what I'm sayin'? A blunt muthaf**a. Philly style
You know what I'm sayin'? Chronic n***a!
I'm talkin' 'bout laid out, played out, phat f**in' funk
Yea this that type sh** we kickin' in the 9 tre muthaf**a
So all you muthaf**in' big ballin' a** gangstas
You put your muthaf**in' hand on yo' gat
And if the police roll up and say turn it down, you burn it down muthaf**a
Cause we Comin' Real Again. 19 n***a 3, boy. Real again. We grabbin' steel
Again, cause we Comin' Real Again. We turn the 90's to the 60's muthaf**a
That's how we rollin'