QDIII - Friends lyrics

[Introduction: 2Pac] I want to be, yo, let me f** that n***a down You heard that sh**, n***a Ay, yo, what you going with that big a** My ghetto love song, set it off, set it off Let's be friends, where my n***as' at Where my n***as', where my n***as' Where my n***as' at, all my real n***as' Where my n***as', where my n***as' Let's be friends, throw your hands in the air There's no need to front Let's see you just throw your hands in the air Let's be friends, Westside in this motherf**a right here Throw your hands in the air, Westside [Verse 1: 2Pac] Approach you and post a minute, yeah All on my double 'R', tinted As you pa** bye winking My eye's freshly scented What's the happ's baby, what's up 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 sh** I bet your man ain't sh**, ain't sh** So why you're hesitating Acting like your sh** don't stink Check out my diamonds, b**h, everyone's going to blink This be a thug paid outlaw n***a with riches Cream dreaming motherf**a on a mash for b**hes Check my resume, sipping on Cristal and Alizé, puking Smoking on big weed, keyed the Cali way, Westside! Don't like tricking but I'll buy you what fit I can't stand no sneaker-wearing nappy head b**h Let my pedigree breathe reason, this' OG Putting b**h-made busters' to sleep with no grief Mash on my so-called car, who the man While I'm tugging on your made-b**h's hand, Westside Understand this, ain't no n***a like me f** Jay Z, he's broke and I smoke daily Baby, let's be friends [Hook: 2Pac] Friends, where's my n***as' at, come on y'all No need to front, let's be friends Because I know you want to f** Let's be friends, no need to front, let's be friends Because I know you want to f** [Verse 2: 2Pac] I met you and I stuttered in pa**ion Though slightly blinded by that a** It was hard to keep my dick in my pants Every time you pa**, got me checking for you hardcore Staring and watching, me and you one on one Picture countless options, was it prophecy Clear as day, visions on top of me Erotic, psychotic, would possess my body Far from a crush, I want to bust your guts And touch everything inside you from my head to my nuts You got me sweating like a fat girl going for mine Just a skinny n***a's f**ing 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 nine-six, fine tricks in drag f** Dre, tell that b**h, 'He can kiss my a**' Back to you, my pretty a** caramel queen Got my hands on your thighs, now let me in-between as friends [Hook: 2Pac] [Verse 3: 2Pac] Can you imagine me in player mode, rush the tricks I got her ready for a booty call, I f**ed your b**h Was it me or the fame, my dick or the game Bet I scream 'Westside' when I came, Westside Scream my name because, baby, it's delicious Got a weak spot for pretty b**hes Up and down, similar to switches My movement, baby, let your back dip into it, make it fluent In and out, all around when a n***a do it You've got me high, let me come inside I love it when you get on top, baby let me ride Who wants to stop me, am I top notch f** player-hating n***as' because they co*k block You'd probably hate to see a real thug with vision What's the game, rather see a n***a up in prison Why have you changed 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 fantasizing, seeing you naked It's a f** song, check the record, so check my record [Hook: 2Pac] [x4] [Conclusion] [x4] Make money, take money, let's get paid Come on, get your cash on, let's get paid