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letra de die/dumpin (og) - 2pac

[intro]
like this
blastin’, dumpin’
b-tch

[verse 1: gonzoe]
i got my pistol c-cked and my knife
’bout to slice this n-gga windpipe
throwin’ tops, swervin’ me on the dice
n-gga thought he was nice with the sl1ckness
but the n-gga i am, sham, just swift with the quickness (mark -ss b-tch)
respect the game, the lame n-ggas die slow
hustlers fly straight like frank feared scarface
from the glock, the lead waste
diggin’ out your chest plate up straight
trimmin’ you from your winge and hit the gate, i’m not waitin’
thinking between and runnin’ on my escape
hop on the 2-10 and wait for you to retaliate
the terrorist doin’ on n-ggas who we {glock c-cked}
glock never miss, through your grill here goes my fist
when i slit yo’ wrist
with the the styles of ruckus south central
los scandalous anybody get buckets uh (west side)
i’m doin’ n-ggas in the rap tussle
rip out your backbone slow, you go to pieces like a puzzle
i’m hand on muzzles to you whack mc’s
black fitted cap to the back with the gap jeans to my knees
n-ggas under siege, like seagal they fall
to my tactics chin checkin’ in charge like chart, i want it all
the loot, the chronic, plus the dips
first n-gga that flinches catch a bullet from my hip
in a rage, serving gauge with my glock to your grill
let the dump-dumps loose, now your brains is on the ceiling n-gga

[verse 2: 2pac]
murderous mindstate
can’t keep my nine straight
sippin’ on this hennessey
waitin’ for the time to break
show up and mothaf-ckas bow down, recognize
west side, death row, outlaw riders
untouchable mob of pistol packers
well known felons labeled for drug sellin’ merciless jackers
forever buzzed
roll with thugs and dawgs
commence to lettin’ off rounds
then escape in the fog
who wanna see me solo?
catch makaveli while he’s sleepin’
my mini-14 murderin’ n-ggas while they creepin’, uhhh!
duck or you -ss out!
drink ’til you p-ss out! (what)
ain’t scared to die
drunk drivin’ in my gl-sshouse
n-ggas is under me
they b-tches come to me
they heard the stories n-gga
now they wanna really see
bomb first, my motto, is fully guaranteed
n-ggas is playahatas
label them my enemies then dumpin’

[refrain 1: 2pac]
look out young n-gga!
’cause it’s time to dump
i’m versatile ,mothaf-ckas
what type of rhyme you want?
n-ggas got me in they sight
now i’m runnin’ for my life
tell me!
what’s that, west side like?
west side!

[verse 3: kurupt]
i’m all about the paper chase ’cause the paper makes life so great
plus, haste makes waste
and i gots the whole spot lock down, concoct styles
catch me rollin’ all the f-ck around with the top down (n-gga, what?)
realest with the microphone
most murder masher verbal disaster
creator, 38 stasher
in the inner zone where the h-llraiser roam
there is not place like home, tec-9s and chromes
got the heater sequence for the heat to the disperse
just in case worse come worst, i dumps first
so pump curt curse, it’s the curse of the pump pump
the one to dump last is the first to get slumped
it’s the mental temptation, mental -ss-ssination
my heart skips a beat for the heat sensation
i’m death-defying, b-tches lyin’ sayin’ i ain’t cute
now she wants an autograph (hey, give me an autograph) b-tch, i ain’t snoop (what?)

[verse 4: scarlo]
one bone b-tch ready to go for broke
hittin’ up your marks with my motherf-ckin’ 4
i’m comin’ up about the hills so feel i’m ready for the static
and n-ggas on my team is the full flesh automatic
planting all you hoes in your motherf-ckin’ place
a b-tch named scarlo is steppin’ up in your face
i’m dustin’ off you chumps with the .44 slugs
and livin’ from the lichter bro i’m ready to pull your plug
so, n-gga, you wanna jump? you gotta jump little higher
scarlo, n-gga, the miss messiah
so b-tch you better get a grip on gangs
you f-ckin’ with the hillside, mentally insane
point of no return and now my life is on the edge
believin’ in my misery i f-cked her in the yeah
giuseppe called me up and told me so
i gotta do a mission on my -ss i gotta go
’cause you can run, hide (hide)
but i’m gonna getcha when tryna escape
you know my gat won’t letcha run, hide
but i’m gonna getcha when tryna escape
you know my gat won’t letcha
west side for life
biaaaaaatch!

[refrain 2: 2pac]
i’m dumpin’
empty my gun
it’s time to run
’cause here come the cops
i’ll be duckin’ ’em for blocks
n-gga i’m dumpin’
empty my clip
forever bustin’
east coast n-gga rushin’
mothaf-cka, i’ll be dumpin’

[verse 5: nutt-so]
k!ller!
loaded them things, n-gga, it’s time to dump
sneakin’ on n-ggas that be sleepin’ when they -ss in the trunk
you slipped, then got crept on, now it’s ride time
to the hills where n-ggas k!ll and peel your sh-t on skyline
it’s die time, and can’t any n-ggas save g
so kneel to your f-ckin’ knees and feel this 45 fade you
aimin’ for heads, pumpin’ lead ’til i bury you
n-ggas be duckin’ but i swingin’ low like chariot
no love, pumpin’ slugs like i’m servin’ dogs
buck buck, now tell your dead homies i said, “what’s up?”
lullaby, rock-a-bye, n-gga die
and rest in piece, eternal pain from this fire
my 45 smoked and broke ya
and nothin’ hurt like a d-ck with his liquid, in his eyes wide open
gats smokin’ no jokin’, bullets to me
deleted soul from his core, as he lay, as i was dumpin’

- 2pac

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