Drop the drums, here it comes, only got
Two minutes to bounce, and every second counts
Better press, wreck on your tech, here we go, set pass the Moet
My trickery's more slippery when wet
Wicked as I flip, don't trip, get a grip
It'll kick, if the bass line's thick, it's a hit
Everybody's got a mic now, its like a hobby
But more like a job, 'cause bootleggers trying to rob me
And little man wants to be a rap, star
Make papes, hit skins, drive a fat car
It ain't easy, sleazy even
Deceiving those we, believe in
No benefits, just tricks and chicks
Knock a pig to pick, so here's a stick to lick
I shoot a gift, til there ain't none left
And if I find that the track sound def
I catch wreck till I lose my breath
That's how it goes in the land of broke
I dispose of those, rock shows, and collect my dough
Now I suppose I'm the bad guy, why?
I say, "Hi," and try to stay high
Life's a mess don't stress, test, of giving
But be thankful that you're living blessed
Guess who's back, coming back with the track supplied
By Special Ed and AK, coming right and exact
I'm fighting it back, now snap, where they at?
When it's time to go to combat, guess who's back
[Chorus: x4]
"Yes I'm back"
"Tupac is"
Back!
Drop the drums, here it comes, only got
One minute to bounce, and every second counts
I went from hustling dicks, to making hits, busting flicks
Now I'm sure to be rich for ninety-six
I pull my 'capes on tapes, and make, papes
Trace the bass, to the tape with the baddest bass to date
I try to shake it but the pace is hard to break
Good thoughts I wait, 'cause they hate my black take
Yeah, it's on, and it's packed in the rap race
But if ya got a black face, its a rat race
I struggle to be rugged and raw, Dukes
Trying to survive in the trials and lawsuits
Everybody wants to test me, why me?
No lie, niggas cried when they try me
Giving up the roughness, justice
I'ma bust as I'm ripping up 'nough hits
And guess who's back? No longer trapped
Cause I snapped on the ones that held me back, feel the contact
Ride the track, get I grip as I flip
Ghetto wickedness I kick, guess who's back?
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Guess who's back?
Drop the drums, here it comes, only got
Two minutes to bounce, and every second counts
Better press, wreck on your tech, here we go, set pass the Moet
My trickery's more slippery when wet
Wicked as I flip, don't trip, get a grip
It'll kick, if the bass line's thick, it's a hit
Everybody's got a mic now, its like a hobby
But more like a job, 'cause bootleggers trying to rob me
And little man wants to be a rap, star
Make papes, hit skins, drive a fat car
It ain't easy, sleazy even
Deceiving those we, believe in
No benefits, just tricks and chicks
Knock a pig to pick, so here's a stick to lick
I shoot a gift, til there ain't none left
And if I find that the track sound def
I catch wreck till I lose my breath
That's how it goes in the land of broke
I dispose of those, rock shows, and collect my dough
Now I suppose I'm the bad guy, why?
I say, "Hi," and try to stay high
Life's a mess don't stress, test, of giving
But be thankful that you're living blessed
Guess who's back, coming back with the track supplied
By Special Ed and AK, coming right and exact
I'm fighting it back, now snap, where they at?
When it's time to go to combat, guess who's back
[Chorus: x4]
"Yes I'm back"
"Tupac is"
Back!
Drop the drums, here it comes, only got
One minute to bounce, and every second counts
I went from hustling dicks, to making hits, busting flicks
Now I'm sure to be rich for ninety-six
I pull my 'capes on tapes, and make, papes
Trace the bass, to the tape with the baddest bass to date
I try to shake it but the pace is hard to break
Good thoughts I wait, 'cause they hate my black take
Yeah, it's on, and it's packed in the rap race
But if ya got a black face, its a rat race
I struggle to be rugged and raw, Dukes
Trying to survive in the trials and lawsuits
Everybody wants to test me, why me?
No lie, niggas cried when they try me
Giving up the roughness, justice
I'ma bust as I'm ripping up 'nough hits
And guess who's back? No longer trapped
Cause I snapped on the ones that held me back, feel the contact
Ride the track, get I grip as I flip
Ghetto wickedness I kick, guess who's back?
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