2Pac – High Till I Die feat. Macadoshis & Rated R (Unreleased OG 1)

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High Till I Die (OG 1) feat. Macadoshis & Rated R

Date: 1993
Producer: Johnny “J” Jackson
Originally recorded for Thug Life Vol. 1


Ah shit
Ay, this for you punk motherfucker’s in Marin

Game true, ain’t got time for fools
Money on my mind so my nine rules
Time to, make weight, niggaz getting crazy paid
And hating bitches for the games they play
So nigga, pull quick
But better be quicker than the next, motherfucker on the, trigger
Cause I’m static
Startin’ to be a fucking havoc gotta keep my automatic or get my ass kicked
When out in traffic, it’s kind of rough and, I drive a bucket
Live the Thug Life nigga screaming, fuck It
Love to throw my middle finger to the Police
And no bucks, no justice, no peace
Smoking blunts till I pass out (Coughing)
Yeah nigga, getting assed out
Rolling in my niggas glass house
Driving fast, talking to bitches whipping cash out
I’m with my niggas, so fuck the suckers, buck the busters
Smoking Chronic motherfucker’s causing ruckus
It’s the last of the Dank, pull over
Can’t hear a damn thing sober
High till I die

Uh, unfadeable
Like, can’t be fucked with
Like, umm, niggas can’t touch this shit yeah
Like umm, back the fuck up motherfucker
Rated R finna flex on you punk ass busters
You better feel this nigga

[Rated R]

I stay high whilst that Chronic shifts
24/7 all I hear then the Indo splits
Choke in my lungs out, I think about death too much that’s why I smoke my brains out
So I can relax and kick back
Come off on a dope track with a rollin’ sack
I got my Death my gat for the punk niggas want beef
Fuck peace nigga, cause I’m playing for keeps
I got mercy, I squabble for a knot
Pump flex in a preg bitch on a blood spot
Let me stop and put some petrol in my tank
Mack serve up the Dank I’m finna hold up this place
Put my Ski mask on
Jump out like a motherfucker cocked, locked, chrome
I’m thinking about that mean ass spree
Get in my room and make my getaway clean
Know what I mean its about dope dividends
Smoking my Chronic sack fuck you bitches

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Yeah nigga, punk ass hoes
Thug Life, all across the country
We want all the thugs to get untied
You know what I’m saying
Mack motherfucking 10

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I graduated from the school of Hard Knocks
At the age of Seventeen I went to camp for slanging rocks
A young nigga with nothing to live for
All I ever wanted was a squeeze and a 6-4
But now they got a nigga trapped in the system
I pop a Cop, when he drop, I piss on him
I smoke blunts like it’s a religion
It’s 187, on a motherfucking stool pigeon
Might swoop in my coupe with the flat boots
Don’t have to make me to shoot when I’m looting
Gotta wait two years cause I’m struggling
Fuck struggling I’d rather stay buzzing
I live the Thug Life nigga till I die
And if I do just die, just hit the blunt and get high
Cause a nigga like me stays down till death
Kicked up dust, to smoke blunts till my last breathe


Ha ha, high till I motherfucking die
Run nigga, run nigga, I’m on ya


High till I die
Loc’ed till they smoke me, the shit don’t stop till my casket drop
High till I die
Loc’ed till they smoke me, the shit don’t stop till my casket drop
I’m high till I die
Loc’ed till they smoke me, the shit don’t stop till my casket drop
High till I die
Loc’ed till they smoke me, the shit don’t stop till my casket drop
High till I die
Loc’ed till they smoke me, the shit don’t stop till the casket drop
High till I die

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(Yeah) Yeah… stay high till I die
(This go out to all my partners, and all my real niggaz)
High till I die
Blaze that shit man, light it up man
High till I die
(You know what I’m saying)
(It’s on, yeah)

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