HEY PAC,
Who shot ya? Separate the weak from the obsolete
Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets
It's on nikka: fukk all that bickering beef
I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek
Your heartbeat sound like Sasquatch feet
Thundering, shaking the concrete
Then the shyt stop when I foil the plot
Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots
Saw me in the drop, 3 and a quarter
Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter
Old school new school need to learn though
I "burn, baby, burn" like "Disco Inferno"
Burn slow like blunts with yayo
Peel more skins than Idaho Potato
nikkas know
the lyrical molesting is taking place
fukking with B.I.G. it ain't safe
I make your skin chafe,
rashes on them asses
Bumps and bruises, blunts and Land Cruisers
Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools
nikkas mad because I know that Cash Rules
Everything Around Me,two Glock 9's 2pac dies
Any motherfukker whispering about mines
And I'm Crooklyn's finest
You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this
I seen the light excite all the freaks
Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps
nikkaz wanna creep, got ta watch my back
Think the Cognac and indo sack make me slack?
I switches all that, cock-sucka G's up
One false move, get swiss cheesed up
Clip the Tec, respect I demand it
Slip and break the, 11th Commandment
Thou shalt not fukk with nor see poppa
Feel a thousand deaths when I drop ya
I feel for you, like Chaka Khan I'm the don
p*ssy when I want Rolex on the arm
Tu-pac youll die slow but calm
Recognize my face, so there won't be no mistake
So you know where to tell Jake, lame nikka
Brave nikka, turned front page nikka
Puff Daddy flips daily
I smoke the blunts he sips on the Bailey's
on the rocks, tote glocks at christenings
Hamme cocked, in the fire position and...
Easy edits and this is the most brutal direct diss ever, taunting pac for getting shot and basically admitting to knowledge of the set up...and shytting on death-row. I dont think pac wouldve recovered.
Who shot ya? Separate the weak from the obsolete
Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets
It's on nikka: fukk all that bickering beef
I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek
Your heartbeat sound like Sasquatch feet
Thundering, shaking the concrete
Then the shyt stop when I foil the plot
Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots
Saw me in the drop, 3 and a quarter
Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter
Old school new school need to learn though
I "burn, baby, burn" like "Disco Inferno"
Burn slow like blunts with yayo
Peel more skins than Idaho Potato
nikkas know
the lyrical molesting is taking place
fukking with B.I.G. it ain't safe
I make your skin chafe,
rashes on them asses
Bumps and bruises, blunts and Land Cruisers
Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools
nikkas mad because I know that Cash Rules
Everything Around Me,
Any motherfukker whispering about mines
And I'm Crooklyn's finest
You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this
I seen the light excite all the freaks
Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps
nikkaz wanna creep, got ta watch my back
Think the Cognac and indo sack make me slack?
I switches all that, cock-sucka G's up
One false move, get swiss cheesed up
Clip the Tec, respect I demand it
Slip and break the, 11th Commandment
Thou shalt not fukk with nor see poppa
Feel a thousand deaths when I drop ya
I feel for you, like Chaka Khan I'm the don
p*ssy when I want Rolex on the arm
Tu-pac youll die slow but calm
Recognize my face, so there won't be no mistake
So you know where to tell Jake, lame nikka
Brave nikka, turned front page nikka
Puff Daddy flips daily
I smoke the blunts he sips on the Bailey's
on the rocks, tote glocks at christenings
Hamme cocked, in the fire position and...
Easy edits and this is the most brutal direct diss ever, taunting pac for getting shot and basically admitting to knowledge of the set up...and shytting on death-row. I dont think pac wouldve recovered.
Last edited:
Who Shot Ya wasn't even about Pac.
