2Pac – All Out (OG Version 2)

Recorded : July 06, 1996
Recorded : Record One Studios, Sherman Oaks, California
Produced : Damon Thomas (Big Simon)

Listen also : 2Pac – All Out (OG Version 1)


Lyric : 

[Intro – 2PAC]

Ho ho hold the
FUCK up, them niggaz dissin me? (Goat Mouth Motherfucker)
jay-z…come out to play…
Hey yo assassin…gimme one of them tracks
I can just ride on motherfuckers with…
mobb deep…
Niggaz talkin bout we can’t rap?
Niggaz must not of never heard no motherfuckin
track off a death row nigga…
DEATH ROW…WESTSIDE…
Let’s get it on…daylight or fuckin nightbreak…
M.O.B…
Go into these niggaz…to the motherfuckin death…

[2PAC]

Come hell or high water, down to slaughter opposers
Just another lost soul, stuck, callin Jehovah
Outlaw ’til it’s over, brandish my strap
Back like a cobra, I stay drunk, cause I’m a mad man
Whenever sober, on a one man mission
My ambition to hold up the rap game
While I pluck holes in niggaz like donuts
And still down to die for all my souljas
Like hillbillies, they don’t fear me
So we feud bringin war to the city
With each breath, death before dishonour
Never let you swallow me, no apologies, your honour
A general in war, I’m the first to bomb
With a squad of trusted killers, quick to move shit heavily armed
I’m similar to Saddam, sometimes I question Hussein
Like fiends frantic for that last vein, stuck in the game
I hit the scene like sandstorms, then transform, watch me
I take the figure of thirty niggaz, who all got me
While bitches wonderin who shot me
No love, keep a grudge, shootin slugs like Muammar Quadaffi
Murder my friends, build a new posse
We takin shots at paparazzi, go and fly now, nigga like Rocky
You got a lot of nerve to play me
Another gay rapper, bustin caps at Jay-Z
And still avoid capture, while y’all caught up in the rapture
Still after me, I’m in Jamacia sippin daiquiris, no doubt
We used to havin nothin, then grabbin somethin and bustin
Wanted to be the thug-nigga, that my old man wasn’t
I came to a field, catchin cases, litigation
Niggaz playa-hatin, got me crooked in all 50 states
I’m screamin DEATH ROW, throwin WESTSIDE, ain’t no thang
We was raised off drive-by’s, brought up to bang
We claim mob, M.O.B. if you be specific
We control all cash from Atlantic-Pacific
And get this, I’m hard to kill, when I peel with this live spot
Father, how the hell did I survive, these five shots?
Live it up, or give it up, and like demons
Late night, hear them screamin; we goin all out!

[Yaki Kadafi]

Big money clutchin, bail, to murder’em, po’s rushin
Cap tilted to the side, on the lean out the ride bustin’
Outlaws enforce the secrets of war, but won’t abuse it
Burnt, bury my burners with my dead buddies when I use it
Give a fuck about later.. shots warm through the equator
Death to you traitors, shots bitin’ through your bones like alligator
Payin my dues.. lookin for miscellaneous infamous crews
Old ladies sing the blues.. leave them smokin from they shoes…

[E.D.I. Mean]

Now with my every wakin’ moment
I’m on a quest to be better, yeah
Position myself to prosper state, prepared for whatever
But at times, I slip slightly, shit I ain’t afraid to admit it
To gone, off that Novocaine, like in too hard to live it
And I’m just a smidgeon past my teenage years.. into adulthood
Now I ride with G’s finally, knowin myself good
And it felt good, when I was young but playtime’s over
EDI here take this gun nigga (ride like) it’s over…

[Kastro]

I piss cold blood, shit hot liquor out my liver
Smoke like a tail pipe, and write when I’m bitter
All my life I been considered a downright, dirty nigga
From when daddy knocked mama’s twat popped the last drop from the litter
Tell me give the world hell
But in hell I give ’em mo’
And I bail outta jail
Screamin fuck the Po’ Po’
When I run to take that enough, from a simple fuck
to multi-million dollar luck

[Napoleon]

Plus I think it’s time to grab all pistols.. wave them shits in the air
Celebrate Outlaw livin nigga, I wouldn’t be here
To you death is losin, and to me this shit’s a family reuinion
And to hell wit a peace treaty, never call it, cause it wouldn’t feed me
My wallet.. be as empty as the day I got started
Twelve shots in my pocket, left my niggaz departed
It’s a shame that these snake vultures niggaz coldhearted
In a dirty world where only God know yo death and can call it…

[Young Noble]

We thugged out, low cut, Outlawz rush and royal flush
Bomb first kickin dust.. out in Cali, but I ain’t in it so much
make ’em pay state to state, N.J to C.A
Them cowards felt the weight, and turned feminine like Michel’le
Niggaz change they whole style when the outlawz comin
A million miles and thuggin
Young Noble..I keep ’em buzzin
While the rapture.. capture this fuckin style that I master
Bringin terminal disaster.. HIT YOU UP when I pass nigga…
Eh yo, eh yo

[Chorus & Outro – 2PAC]

US, THE FIRST TO BUST, WHO DO WE TRUST? OUT FOR MOBB DEEP AND JAY-Z, DEAD IN
THE DUST, I TOLD YOU PUNKS THAT I WAS AFTER BIGGIE…YOU GOT INVOLVED, NOW WE BOUT TO
BUST ON ALL Y’ALL… WE GOIN ALL OUT…

US, THE FIRST TO BUST, WHO DO WE TRUST? OUT FOR MOBB DEEP AND JAY-Z, DEAD IN
THE DUST, I TOLD YOU PUNKS THAT I WAS AFTER BIGGIE…YOU GOT INVOLVED, NOW WE BOUT TO
BUST ON ALL Y’ALL… GOIN ALL OUT…

US, THE FIRST TO BUST, WHO DO WE TRUST? OUT FOR MOBB DEEP AND JAY-Z, DEAD IN
THE DUST, I TOLD YOU PUNKS THAT I WAS AFTER BIGGIE…YOU GOT INVOLVED, NOW WE BOUT TO
BUST ON ALL Y’ALL… WE GOIN ALL OUT…

US, THE FIRST TO BUST, WHO DO WE TRUST? OUT FOR MOBB DEEP AND JAY-Z, DEAD IN
THE DUST, I TOLD YOU PUNKS THAT I WAS AFTER PIGGIE…YOU GOT INVOLVED, NOW WE BOUT TO
BUST ON ALL Y’ALL…WESTSIDE….GOIN ALL OUT…

[2PAC talking]

Jay-Z
Haha boy you at yo funeral, punk motherfucker big dick suckin lips trick ass nigga
How you gonna be Hawaiian Sophie one year and be tough ass mob connection?
WESTSIDE…OUTLAW…DEATHROW…MAKAVELI THA DON…OUTLAWZ THE CRIMINAL
DESPERADO’S…WESTSIDE THUG LIVIN…
DIE DIE SLOW
(think my memory ain’t bad you about the business…)
DIE DIE SLOW
(BANG, you dead)
DIE DIE SLOW
(haha mobb deep, you lil young ass juvenile delinquents…)
DIE DIE SLOW
(BANG BANG, you dead)
DIE DIE SLOW
(biggie…BANG, you dead)
DIE DIE SLOW
(puffy…BANG, you dead)
DIE DIE DIE SLOW
(you robbed the game, no need to explain, get outta here)
DIE, DIE, DIE SLOW
DIE, DIE, DIE SLOW
mmh, DIE, DIE SLOW
MY LABEL THE NOTORIOUS UNTOUCHABLE DEATH ROW…

Facebook Comments

NO COMMENTS

LEAVE A REPLY