(Chorus) One thing we all adore Something worth dying for Nothing but pain stuck in this game Searching for fortune and fame
The one thing we all adore Something worth dying for It's been nothing but pain stuck in this game Searching for fortune and fame
(Verse 1: 2Pac) Though we exist and breathe some believe currency comes to g's Stresses after battle with success comes greed They got me hot When they shot me plotted my revenge To increase my ends enemies getting dropped Win or lose red or blue we must all stay true Play the game nigga never let the game play you And for the fame niggas change fast that's a shame What's the game lost souls who controls our brain? Who can I blame? the world seems strange at times Somewhat insane I'm hoping we can change with time I'm living blinded searching for refinement Curse, I know death follows me but I murder him first And worse yet with each breathe steps I take Breathless ss there a cure for a hustler with a death wish? Cigar ashes coaster crystal glasses We mash on them jealous bastards with a ski mask I'm the first one to warn them blast it Wrapped in plastic bullshitting got his ass hit (outlaws) Ain't nothing left now treated like a stepchild Was not for me nothing but busters and bitches (fuck em all) Be rocking beats fake in fame
(Verse 2: Kadafi) Block run and shoot slugs We throw them back like hardballs Without the gloves No love for these fake desperados And thugs I bleed to envy Smoke and blow out they blunts Sipping Henney Drunk nights and hot days Cocking my heat shooting it sideways A wife on the run full of common blunts Unconditionally married to my gun Fulfillin' my destiny on knees And ones desires be pulling all my cabbage like priors Stuck in the trance searching for something higher Fortune and fame
(Chorus)
(Verse 3: Kastro) Searching for fortune and fame lost in the rain A lose of the game with life the cost of the game We forcing the change mother fuck flossing the chain All the blame belongs to the part of the brain That we never use nigga plus my heart is in pain And if I ever lose homey bet I'm at it again Outlaws don't die so united we stand And if family come before all the fortune and fame
(Verse 4: Napoleon) As I walk up in the crib laid to rest me head Say some rhymes to angels hope they bless my bed Hope they bless me the righteous way Got a homie locked down outta town I sent him a kite today Man that hate in your heart you gotta cleanse it dog Praying for my downfall and I can sense it dog I was passed down the street fame like glocks clocked and keep aim Was raised up with a clock box and I ran with the local street gang They say the light is faded but still shine in the dark You can easy been a man but you is a boy in your heart And that's some game that I got from generation of game In the road of life dog we need to switch up lanes Think about it
(Chorus)
(Verse 5: Young Noble) I can't complain I've seen my fair share of the fame It wont change me now I've got this piece of change I feel strange I got so used to the hood That when I finally got out at first it ain't feel good I was just a baby still retarded from slavery When we struggle to shovel shit ain't nobody saved me Ghetto ain't made me I made myself Poverty raised me thinking ain't no help I pray for my health my mind and my family too State of myself my grind and my family crew Where one hand watches the other no we ain't blood But we still real brothers the struggle is real nothing can steal what we build and that remains the same 'Till that day we killed and that's real Life that I was aimed to be love by my family tree That's fame to me, how about it
(Spoken over Intro) Keep it goin, got my nigga Slip Capone Hahahaha, hell yeah, lot of fakers is out there Niggaz get around these backwoods Get around they mommas, pull up they pants hide they rags and start to act good, hahahahaha!
(Daz) Who mashes with the crazy, illest niggaz in town? (I do) Killin willingly, who got the right to make a sound? My sound break block, corners, avenues and drives It's about time the mashin is arrived I take you on a mission, be on a mission, I'm packin steel Steadily givin these niggaz no passes on livin (no passes) I spend major loot on khaki suits Nikes and kroker-saks to sweat suits, and leather boots I box niggaz twice my size, I bust wit a fo'-five Lick you up in yo' eye, blast, make the party live I live the unusual, crucial life So pay attention when I come through for you and your crew as just a man and his music, I ain't afraid to use it Bruise you badly, you want confusion, I mean it's useless to step to this, we in effect, we dangerous Contendin mental murderers and ain't afraid to diss Biatch! (yeah)
(2Pac) Now I been called crazy, to fade me it's not possible (haha) I give a fuck, what you thought, or who you brought witchu? (Bad Boy killer) A Bad Boy killer, Biggie annihilator They wonderin why he breathin, but bitches is dyin later (ahh) Better laugh now, then cry when I come to get you I hit you with two glocks, and leave you with scar tissue On some loco shit (loco), my pistol smoke yo' shit (smoke) Let's go for dolo BIATCH, and watch me flow yo' shit Mr., Makaveli movin pieces like telekenesis It's like a chess game, let's play wit real pieces (hell yeah) Shots rang and niggaz brains were spilt Another Bad Boy affiliated (Bad Boy killer) nigga was kilt I hit the funeral and busted his folks and leave the scene like a shadow in a blaze of smoke Don't stop, keep goin
(Chorus) Don't stop, keep goin (*repeat 6X*)
(Kurupt) Well it's that seventeen shot glock cocker, the block rocker (fool) Hardcore hooligan, verbal assault chopper Finally televised - Kurupt, Daz reside (resides) Lethal with mics like guns, bats and knifes Those who oppose are my foes, all stand in rows Deadliest MC across the globe, Kurupt Capone (That's that nigga) I packs heat when it's cold Too much pressure makes ya fold, so lo' and behold Why you waitin for the poetical Satan? Creatin slaughters, runnin through camps like Walter Payton I snatch ya breath (aah!) and bust 'til there's no one left Who goes against the program, I'm the Man like Meth (I'm the man nigga) I don't trust ya (I don't) The second I get a chance I'ma bust ya No matter where, you could be in Russia I'ma touch ya (Like that) Vocal assassin, motivated by cash Shoot for the loot, brownies and black mags
.. Let the speakers bump - BIATCH! (let the speakers bump) For everybody out there that got the humps in they Jeep Big Suburbans, they Lexuses, they Beemers We gon' break it down a lil' somethin like this for you to get yo' sub on throughout yo' neighborhood Turn it up, check it out
(Daz) They claim to be down, they say they down (man fuck you man) Number one..
