2Pac - Smoked Out lyrics

by

T-Pain


[Hook x8: DJ Chop Up as 2Pac]
Smoked out, loc'd out
Strap, GO!

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
I'm headed for the penitentiary and cuttin' classing
I'm buckin', blastin', straight mashin'
Mobbin' through the overpass laughin'
While these other motherf*ckers try to figure out, no doubt
They jealous of a n*gga's clout, tell me Lord
Can ya feel me? I keep my finger on the trigger
Cause some n*ggas tryna kill me
And mama raised a hellraiser, everyday gettin paid
Police on my pager, straight stressin
A fugitive, my occupation is under question
Wanted for investigation, and even though
I'm marked for death, I'mma spark 'til I lose my breath
Motherf*ckers, every time I see the paper
I see my picture, when a n*gga's gettin' richer
They come to get ya, it's like a motherf*ckin' trap
And they wonder why it's hard bein black

[Hook x8: DJ Chop Up as 2Pac]
Smoked out, loc'd out
Strap, GO!

[Verse 2: 2Pac]
I live the life of a Thug, hope you understand
Forgive me for my mistakes, I gotta play my hand
And my hand's on the sixteen-shot, semi-automatic
Crooked cop killin Glock, tell me Lord
Can ya feel me? Show a way
I'm prayin but my enemies won't go away
And everywhere I turn I see n*ggas burn
Every n*gga that I know's on death row
My younger homie's seventeen and he paid a price
Little young motherf*cker doin triple life
Though I tell him in his letters, it's gettin better
If my n*gga knew the truth he'd hit the roof
Just heard ya baby's mama was smoked out, f*ck the drama
Wanna break my Loc out, smokin blunts
Gettin drunk off that Tanqueray gin
'Bout to break my n*gga out the f*ckin' pen'


[Hook x8: DJ Chop Up as 2Pac]
Smoked out, loc'd out
Strap, GO!

[Verse 3: 2Pac]
I'm on my knees beggin please come and SAVE ME
THE WHOLE WORLD done made a n*gga crazy!
I got my three-five-seven can't control it
Screamin die motherf*cker and he's loaded
Everybody run for cover, aww sh*t
Thug Life motherf*cker, duck quick
Now am I wrong if I am don't worry me
Cause do or die gettin high till they bury me
Dear Lord can ya hear me, when I die
Let a n*gga be strapped, f*cked up, and high
With my hands on the trigger, thug n*gga
Stressin' like a motherf*ckin' drug dealer
And even in the darkest nights, I'm a thug for Life
I got the heart to fight now
Mama raised a hell-raiser why cry
That's just life in the ghetto, do or die

[Hook x8: DJ Chop Up as 2Pac]
Smoked out, loc'd out
Strap, GO!

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