[Featuring Live Squad, Treach, Apache] [Yeah hehehahaha, we goin platinum nigga! Plaahahatinum.] Yeah, you got the Live Squad in this motherfucker We got my nigga Treach from Naughty by Nature in this motherfucker My nigga Apache up in this motherfucker Verse One: Tupac My Mossberg goes boom, gimme room, can I catch it Talkin quick and then I vic just tryin to keep from gettin blasted I had enough I put a hit upon them bastards Boo-yaa! Turned a snitch into a casket Now they after me, prowling for a niggaz bucks Time to see, who's the G, with the bigger nuts Buck buck, big up and livin reckless Niggaz with a death wish step in with a Tec and I'll wet this Yeah this shit is hyper Two to one I'm writing representing and I'm striking like a viper Huh, I got my mind made up, I got my nine Ring the alarm, and strong arm must run Some niggaz need to feel me with a passion I'm old fashioned, run up on me nigga and get blasted With five deadly venomz (Yeah 'Pac, fuck that, still hittin em up with that old deadly shit. Aiyyo Treach where you at? Step up and hit they ass up with the wickedness.) Verse Two: Treach We come to hit you with a sock full of Brooklyn to the Onyx of your nose, punk is funky like skunk blunts Stunk like funk cunt I come to take you on a war rough and rugged route And if another doubts I blow your fuckin mother out And that's the street scarred style I shout I'm-de-MC-wit-de-nasty-mouf, and kick the bitch out Sue me? I pay the lawyer for ya oh boy yeah Plus my style's ten to twenty fuckin pounds more I take you quicker than a picture of a punk ya pickin shit pickin pockets with a razor stoppin Russian rockets Not shoplift, I'm liftin shop Once you sound hot, cause if you ain't a perfect ten my sign is stop! It's twenty mother-crooked-fuckin styles in em Like women I did em I'm in for deadly ready venom Verse Three: Live Squad Yeah, as I take a puff I get rough, Big Mad To put it on, can't none come tougher see I'm down with the sound of the Squad hard, boom! Breakin em down, I make em see their doom Coming straight from the dome where I roam it's a job to rob and steal and runnin from the coppers Who hold a, boulder, turn the gun controller Started from a punk now to be a high roller Youngest, reckless, crazy, disaster Mac-11 blaster, and I run faster Than a lot of cops I can't be stopped till my head gets popped A lot of fuckin bodies will drop It's a disaster, I'm coming for the blood splatter I make you scatter, leavin trails of brains and bladders Blowin em out the frame with no shame Game tight, drop a body then get out of sight Count my loot after I shoot, leave my kicks up and it's something I don't wanna do, somethin that I never did I try to get him, I think I hit em, I lit him He's out! A poison, a deadly venom (Yeah Mad, fuck that! You know how we do. KnowhatI'msayin? Squad in effect, YG'z in effect. Now you know a nigga like me gotta represent) Verse Four: Live Squad Once again, back to rip shit, quick on the flip tip The psycho, represent the real to take the mic flow Deadly, rock a head G, check the melody Niggaz can't touch me when I wreckin G you better flee Cause I'm gifted with a jab and a forty-four Mag So nigga flip or take a trip in a body bag Uhh, boom you slipped up, now you're zipped up Yeah one more statistic, fronted and got ripped up No joke, you be yolk, no matter how it sound We're taking over eight niggaz back to the stomping grounds Line em up single file, dome runnin in em A nigga hit em with the venom, the fourth deadly venom (Nigga, yaknowhatI'msayin? Fuck that! I told you, we takin over, yo 'Pac.) Verse Five: 2Pac Five deadly venomz verse five be the livest Strugglin and strive, keep a nine in my waistline Take mine, you better bury me, G Punk ass niggaz don't even worry me, see I got a glock that say 'Pac run the block Fuck the cops cause my gauge gets me... PAID As I sit and reminesce about the old days Hugging on my AK, fuck getting played, hey I say niggaz need to get they mind right Until they do I pop a clip and grip my nine tight Now it's on everday could be my last day That's why I blast on they ass as I past let the glass spray First you had a mouth full of fronts Now you're mouth's full of chunks, Pac's out puffin blunts Deadly venomz (Hahaha, yeah pass that shit over here. Apache bout to clean shit up.) Verse Six: Apache Throw up your middle finger! Start the track for the maniac Only thing I'm givin out is black donuts and dirty backs Let me tell how you rough I get I pop shit behind your back get in your face and pop the same shit You can't get in because my gate's bigger I'ma snake nigga My act guards me so hard I pull the fuckin trigger I'm a section to clinch your porch is like a pinch Test a rhyme I'll knock your hairline back an inch Fuckin up pooh-butts, cut em like cold cuts Choke em with my boot lace, then leave em hangin like old nuts Clip up and move out, time to get em That's the results of fuckin with the fifth venom in denim (Yeah, yaknowhatI'msayin? Five motherfuckin deadly venomz, in effect for ninety-three ninety-four ninety-five all that other shit. We takin this motherfucker over this larger hit. YaknowhatI'msayin? Follow us, come along. YaknowhatI'msayin? We takin this motherfucker over. TRUST. We out.)