Оригинален текст
(feat. Live Squad, Treach, Apache)
(Yeah hehehahaha, we goin platinum nigg*! Plaahahatinum.)
Yeah, you got the Live Squad in this motherfker
We got my nigg* Treach from Naughty by Nature in this motherfker
My nigg* Apache up in this motherfker
Verse One: Tupac
My Mossberg goes boom, gimme room, can I catch it
Talkin quick and then I vic just tryin to keep from gettin blasted
I had enough I put a hit upon them b*stards
Boo-yaa! Turned a snitch into a casket
Now they after me, prowling for a bucks
Time to see, who's the G, with the bigger nuts
Buck buck, big up and livin reckless
with a death wish step in with a Tec and I'll wet this
Yeah this s**t is hyper
Two to one I'm writing representing and I'm striking like a viper
Huh, I got my mind made up, I got my nine
Ring the alarm, and strong arm must run
Some need to feel me with a passion
I'm old fashioned, run up on me nigg* and get blasted
With five deadly venomz
(Yeah 'Pac, fk that, still hittin em up with
that old deadly s**t. Aiyyo Treach where you at?
Step up and hit they as* up with the wickedness.)
Verse Two: Treach
We come to hit you with a sock full of Brooklyn
to the Onyx of your nose, punk is funky like skunk blunts
Stunk like funk c**t
I come to take you on a war rough and rugged route
And if another doubts I blow your fkin mother out
And that's the street scarred style
I shout I'm-de-MC-wit-de-nasty-mouf, and kick the b*tch out
Sue me? I pay the lawyer for ya oh boy yeah
Plus my style's ten to twenty fkin pounds more
I take you quicker than a picture of a punk ya pickin s**t
pickin pockets with a razor stoppin Russian rockets
Not shoplift, I'm liftin shop
Once you sound hot, cause if you ain't a perfect ten
my sign is stop!
It's twenty mother-crooked-fkin styles in em
Like women I did em I'm in for deadly ready venom
Verse Three: Live Squad
Yeah, as I take a puff I get rough, Big Mad
To put it on, can't none come tougher see
I'm down with the sound of the Squad hard, boom!
Breakin em down, I make em see their doom
Coming straight from the dome where I roam it's a job to
rob and steal and runnin from the coppers
Who hold a, boulder, turn the gun controller
Started from a punk now to be a high roller
Youngest, reckless, crazy, disaster
Mac-11 blaster, and I run faster
Than a lot of cops I can't be stopped till my head gets popped
A lot of fkin bodies will drop
It's a disaster, I'm coming for the blood splatter
I make you scatter, leavin trails of brains and bladders
Blowin em out the frame with no shame
Game tight, drop a body then get out of sight
Count my loot after I shoot, leave my kicks up and it's
something I don't wanna do, somethin that I never did
I try to get him, I think I hit em, I lit him
He's out! A poison, a deadly venom
(Yeah Mad, fk that! You know how we do.
KnowhatI'msayin? Squad in effect, YG'z in effect.
Now you know a nigg* like me gotta represent)
Verse Four: Live Squad
Once again, back to rip s**t, quick on the flip tip
The psycho, represent the real to take the mic flow
Deadly, rock a head G, check the melody
can't touch me when I wreckin G you better flee
Cause I'm gifted with a jab and a forty-four Mag
So nigg* flip or take a trip in a body bag
Uhh, boom you slipped up, now you're zipped up
Yeah one more statistic, fronted and got ripped up
No joke, you be yolk, no matter how it sound
We're taking over eight back to the stomping grounds
Line em up single file, dome runnin in em
A nigg* hit em with the venom, the fourth deadly venom
(nigg*, yaknowhatI'msayin? fck that!
I told you, we takin over, yo 'Pac.)
Verse Five: 2Pac
Five deadly venomz verse five be the livest
Strugglin and strive, keep a nine in my waistline
Take mine, you better bury me, G
Punk as* don't even worry me, see
I got a glock that say 'Pac run the block
fk the cops cause my gauge gets me... PAID
As I sit and reminesce about the old days
Hugging on my AK, fk getting played, hey
I say need to get they mind right
Until they do I pop a clip and grip my nine tight
Now it's on everday could be my last day
That's why I blast on they as* as I past let the glass spray
First you had a mouth full of fronts
Now you're mouth's full of chunks, Pac's out puffin blunts
Deadly venomz
(Hahaha, yeah pass that s**t over here.
Apache bout to clean s**t up.)
Verse Six: Apache
Throw up your middle finger! Start the track for the maniac
Only thing I'm givin out is black donuts and dirty backs
Let me tell how you rough I get
I pop s**t behind your back get in your face and pop the same s**t
You can't get in because my gate's bigger I'ma snake nigg*
My act guards me so hard I pull the fkin trigger
I'm a section to clinch your porch is like a pinch
Test a rhyme I'll knock your hairline back an inch
fkin up pooh-butts, cut em like cold cuts
Choke em with my boot lace, then leave em hangin like old nuts
Clip up and move out, time to get em
That's the results of fkin with the fifth venom in denim
(Yeah, yaknowhatI'msayin?
Five motherfkin deadly venomz, in effect for ninety-three
ninety-four ninety-five all that other s**t.
We takin this motherfker over this larger hit.
YaknowhatI'msayin? Follow us, come along. Yaknowhat I'msayin?
We takin this motherfker over. TRUST. We out.)