Letra Letter 2 pac de Boosie Badazz

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Thrilla, vol. 1

2015

Letter 2 pac

Boosie Badazz
Holla at my nigga right quick
My letter to 2Pac
Wake up nigga
Let me holla at you right

First of all, I'm gon' let you know
that you're really missed
And prolly never be nobody better, real shit
All through my life, you inspired me, dawg
When you died, I really cried
I wanted to ride fo' you, dawg
Say, Pac, I be goin' through it just like you
Police hate me, the government officials
they hate me too
People compare me to you
but I never asked fo' their glory
But I do feel like we one of a kind with similar stories
They call this hustle shit, this trap shit
South run the rap shit
Half these rappers wouldn't even make it if you was rappin', Pac
Dudes you used to beef with, they blew up fo' real
That boy, Jay-Z, he eatin', he damn near touchin' a bill
"Unconditional love", "Dear momma", "I ain't mad at cha" my favorite song
say Pac, when I listen to 'em I wish that you was home
Pac, they charged me with murders and maced me in my cell
Still, I got high in that bitch every day, L-O-L
Your mama smiling, she even got her own college
You served a purpose, you gave millions of kids with nothing knowledge
Guess what, Suge just hit a nigga in a car, heard he killed the nigga
Pac, now he say he goin' blind, I hope he beat them bitches
They still got money for wars but can't feed in the poor
We got a black president now, Pac, but still ain't got more
It's crazy (his name Obama)
I just wish I had some time to make a hit with you
My oldest daughter Ivy said, "daddy, that's all you listen to"
I hate the cops just how you hate the cops
I connect in Hollywood, but they won't give me no shot (my bad my name Boosie, man)
people don't even buy CDs no mo', Pac
Teenagers ain't even fightin', mane, they squeezin' a knot
(They shootin' up everybody) anyway, save a spot fo' me
I wish you had Google
can't really tell you in this letter but it's a lot to know bout Boosie (I'm the truth, Pac)
Police shootin' us down on TV, nah (fo' real)
It's startin' to feel like ninteen-sixty-eight in 3-
D, Pac
It's a mate I fucked two hoes, I tossed it up last night
And they let me press record, I went dumb last night
Smile, but anyway, you prolly tired, so I'mma let you go
But thanks fo' everythin' you got me through a hundred
I remain the same, Boosie Badass

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Boosie Badazz
Holla at my nigga right quick
My letter to 2Pac
Wake up nigga
Let me holla at you right

First of all, I'm gon' let you know
that you're really missed
And prolly never be nobody better, real shit
All through my life, you inspired me, dawg
When you died, I really cried
I wanted to ride fo' you, dawg
Say, Pac, I be goin' through it just like you
Police hate me, the government officials
they hate me too
People compare me to you
but I never asked fo' their glory
But I do feel like we one of a kind with similar stories
They call this hustle shit, this trap shit
South run the rap shit
Half these rappers wouldn't even make it if you was rappin', Pac
Dudes you used to beef with, they blew up fo' real
That boy, Jay-Z, he eatin', he damn near touchin' a bill
"Unconditional love", "Dear momma", "I ain't mad at cha" my favorite song
say Pac, when I listen to 'em I wish that you was home
Pac, they charged me with murders and maced me in my cell
Still, I got high in that bitch every day, L-O-L
Your mama smiling, she even got her own college
You served a purpose, you gave millions of kids with nothing knowledge
Guess what, Suge just hit a nigga in a car, heard he killed the nigga
Pac, now he say he goin' blind, I hope he beat them bitches
They still got money for wars but can't feed in the poor
We got a black president now, Pac, but still ain't got more
It's crazy (his name Obama)
I just wish I had some time to make a hit with you
My oldest daughter Ivy said, "daddy, that's all you listen to"
I hate the cops just how you hate the cops
I connect in Hollywood, but they won't give me no shot (my bad my name Boosie, man)
people don't even buy CDs no mo', Pac
Teenagers ain't even fightin', mane, they squeezin' a knot
(They shootin' up everybody) anyway, save a spot fo' me
I wish you had Google
can't really tell you in this letter but it's a lot to know bout Boosie (I'm the truth, Pac)
Police shootin' us down on TV, nah (fo' real)
It's startin' to feel like ninteen-sixty-eight in 3-
D, Pac
It's a mate I fucked two hoes, I tossed it up last night
And they let me press record, I went dumb last night
Smile, but anyway, you prolly tired, so I'mma let you go
But thanks fo' everythin' you got me through a hundred
I remain the same, Boosie Badass