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letra de ronnin - 2 pac

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one time, one time n-gg- one time! (where?)

runnin’ from the police (yeah i know what you mean)

no matter what i do, they got a n-gg-

still runnin’ from the police

(put them motherf-ckin nike’s on tight and get ghost y’all)

verse one: dramacydal

i ain’t got nuttin on my mind, but gettin in some trouble

lickin shots to they block leavin bl–dy blood puddles

for some ridah delight, now we in a gunfight

i can shoot the gauge pebbles at the devils or die tonight

it’s on me, but if i die bury me a motherf-ckin g

a open casket on them b-st-rds so they all remember me

with my vest on my chest, my tools and my piece

thug life motherf-cker gotta me runnin’ from the -police-

n-gg-, you know that’s true

catch a n-gg- like k-dog, chillin wit a crew

every d-mn day parlay with my gl-ss of re

the o.j. and it’s all ok

to that f-ckin fake -i shot-, got to play the man

ran me down the block with my gl-ss in my hand

d-mn, i hope it don’t spill

n-gg- chill, sh-t is real c-ck back my steel

still runnin’ from the -police- i gets no sleep

i got you peepin in my window while i’m smokin indo

but i ain’t no motherf-ckin track star, -trator- got a jeep

like big mouth, runnin through motherf-ckers backyards

so i, grabs my piece before i flee

and instead of me runnin’, these b-tches is runnin’ from me

lick shots h-ts spots off on my piece

cause a n-gg- like big mouth is through runnin’ from the -police-

interlude: don gargon ?? (some ragga toaster, this is a very rough guess)

i bust off! what about the time they pull me from the bronco

lay, they tried to c-ck me, but them can’t gun store

when a batty bwoy do it from the mob

ahh, pull up your pants then you screw an left squad

look around, look around, punk police

while gwan man doesn’t a come but a bad boy test

look around, look around, punk police

me hafta blast back, cause de blast is best

verse two: stretch, notorious b.i.g.

yo i was, schemin and fiendin for loots and took the crooked route

to, ghetto fame i felt the pains and now i run the game

the insane brain, cold gettin fly like a plane

on them suckers with my n-gg- biggie smalls causin ruckus

check it, i grew up a f-ckin screwup

got introduced to the game, got a ounce and f-ckin blew up

choppin rocks overnight

the n-gg- biggie smalls tryin ta turn into the black frank white

and we got the workers choppin rock, benz by the flock

and we gettin it, the dirty -pigs- jealous so they sweatin it

i’m lettin off smoke, hope they don’t play me for no joke

and provoke the homicide, so just let the drama slide

we keepin it real, f-ck how you feel, biggie p-ss the steel

let’s serve these motherf-ckers slugs as a f-ckin meal

we had to grow dreads to change our description

-tupac- on the milk box missin

show they toes you know they got stepped on

a fist full of bullets a chest full of teflon

run from the -police- picture that, n-gg- i’m too fat

i f-ck around and catch a asthma attack (heavy breathing)

that’s why i bust back, it don’t phase me

when he drop, take his glock, and i’m swayze

summer break, my escape, sold the glock, bought some weight

laid back, i got some money to make, motherf-cker

interlude: don gargon ?? (again this is a very rough guess)

now it’s war, me tryin to sell, runnin from the punk po-lice

they try to c-ck me, but them can’t gun store

what about they come to hold up me north

pulled up the park, i left school and left buck

look around, look around, punk police

was about to blast with ya gun but you can’t stop me

look around, look around, punk police

me haf to blast back, cause blast back best

verse three: 2pac

they got me runnin’ from the -four-five-

duckin and dodgin in my survival

the benzo and i let off with my -nine milli-

i’m movin swifter than the next n-gg-, no time for s-x

cause in my mind all i wonder is who’s next

n-gg-, my homey slipped and now he pays the price

he did a driveby, sixteen, now he’s doin triple life

tell me is it me or my upbringin

i split that dove sh-t

n-gg- motherf-ck singin, i hope you got your timberlands

on tight, cause i ain’t givin up

i’d rather duck these motherf-ckers all night

i’m runnin’ through the projects, beyotch

they’ll never catch me

cause i’m loc’d and trigger happy on the, sneotch

don’t say you never heard of me, til they murder me, i’m a legend

do thug n-gg-s go to heaven?

i’m rollin with the thorough heads

we gettin ghost on them hoes and yo

i got no love for the -motherf-ckers- i’m runnin’ from the police

- 2 pac

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