pointproven214
i speak facts not emotions
mine is 1st verse on ambitionzof a ridah easily
the amount of syllables he rhymes is ridiculous.
the amount of syllables he rhymes is ridiculous.
Last edited:
favorite 2pac aka makaveli verse
- Thread starter pointproven214
- Start date
The fukk 
start over breh
start over breh
street heat
merchant of death
2pac: " i know you got a man but he aint gon mind if i take you out" 
woman: "of course he gon mind"
woman: "of course he gon mind"
Inspect Her Deck
Skins of all colours come together as brothers
Dangerous and ambitious, while schemin on gettin riches
I'm spittin at tricks cause I'm addicted to pretty bytches
Currency motivated, not easily terminated
Now that we made it, my nikkaz can never be faded
This is my prophecy -- I gotta be paid
All you cowards that try to stop me is beggin for early graves
I thought we was cool, I was a fool, thinkin you could be true
when I don't fukk with your punk crew
These are the tales for my nikkaz doin time in the cell
I went from hell, to livin well
Bustin at nikkaz who said my name in vain
I got no time for them tricks, I'm heavy in the game
I wanna be a baller, please
But the bytches and the liquor keep on callin me
I'm floatin free on the highway, formulatin plans
Can't wait til I see L.A., cause it's so scandalous
I'm spittin at tricks cause I'm addicted to pretty bytches
Currency motivated, not easily terminated
Now that we made it, my nikkaz can never be faded
This is my prophecy -- I gotta be paid
All you cowards that try to stop me is beggin for early graves
I thought we was cool, I was a fool, thinkin you could be true
when I don't fukk with your punk crew
These are the tales for my nikkaz doin time in the cell
I went from hell, to livin well
Bustin at nikkaz who said my name in vain
I got no time for them tricks, I'm heavy in the game
I wanna be a baller, please
But the bytches and the liquor keep on callin me
I'm floatin free on the highway, formulatin plans
Can't wait til I see L.A., cause it's so scandalous
pointproven214
i speak facts not emotions
So many battlefield scars while driven in plush cars
This life as a rap star is nothin without heart
Was born rough and rugged, addressin the mad public
My attitude was, "fukk it," cause motherfukkers love it
To be a soldier, must maintain composure at ease
Though life is complicated, only what you make it to be
Uhh, and my ambitions as a ridah to catch her
while she hot, and horny, go up inside her
Then I spit some game in her ear, "Go to the tele hoe"
Equipped with money and a Benz, cause bytch I'm barely broke
I'm smokin bomb-ass weed feelin crucial
From player to player, the game's tight, the feeling's mutual
From hustlin and prayers, to breakin motherfukkers to pay-up
I got no time for these bytches, cause these hoes tried to play us
I'm on a meal-ticket mission, want a mil', so I'm wishin
Competition got me ripped, on that bullshyt they stressin (boo-yaa!)
I'ma rhyme though, clown hoes like it's manditory
No guts no glory my nikka bytch got the game distorted
Now it's on and it's on because I said so
Can't trust a bytch in the bidness so I got with Death Row
Now these money hungry bytches gettin suspicious
Started plottin and plannin on schemes, to come and trick us
But Thug nikkaz be on point and game tight (yeah)
Me, Syke and Bogart, wrap it up the same night
Got problems then handle it, motherfukkers see me
This life as a rap star is nothin without heart
Was born rough and rugged, addressin the mad public
My attitude was, "fukk it," cause motherfukkers love it
To be a soldier, must maintain composure at ease
Though life is complicated, only what you make it to be
Uhh, and my ambitions as a ridah to catch her
while she hot, and horny, go up inside her
Then I spit some game in her ear, "Go to the tele hoe"
Equipped with money and a Benz, cause bytch I'm barely broke
I'm smokin bomb-ass weed feelin crucial
From player to player, the game's tight, the feeling's mutual
From hustlin and prayers, to breakin motherfukkers to pay-up
I got no time for these bytches, cause these hoes tried to play us
I'm on a meal-ticket mission, want a mil', so I'm wishin
Competition got me ripped, on that bullshyt they stressin (boo-yaa!)
I'ma rhyme though, clown hoes like it's manditory
No guts no glory my nikka bytch got the game distorted
Now it's on and it's on because I said so
Can't trust a bytch in the bidness so I got with Death Row
Now these money hungry bytches gettin suspicious
Started plottin and plannin on schemes, to come and trick us
But Thug nikkaz be on point and game tight (yeah)
Me, Syke and Bogart, wrap it up the same night
Got problems then handle it, motherfukkers see me