DJ Chop Up - 2Pac - Smoked Out lyrics

[Hook x8: DJ Chop Up as 2Pac] Smoked out, loc'd out Strap, GO! [Verse 1: 2Pac] I'm headed for the penitentiary and cuttin' cla**ing I'm buckin', blastin', straight mashin' Mobbin' through the overpa** laughin' While these other motherf**ers try to figure out, no doubt They jealous of a n***a's clout, tell me Lord Can ya feel me? I keep my finger on the trigger Cause some n***as tryna k** me And mama raised a hellraiser, everyday gettin paid Police on my pager, straight stressin A fugitive, my occupation is under question Wanted for investigation, and even though I'm marked for d**h, I'mma spark 'til I lose my breath Motherf**ers, every time I see the paper I see my picture, when a n***a's gettin' richer They come to get ya, it's like a motherf**in' trap And they wonder why it's hard bein black [Hook x8: DJ Chop Up as 2Pac] Smoked out, loc'd out Strap, GO! [Verse 2: 2Pac] I live the life of a Thug, hope you understand Forgive me for my mistakes, I gotta play my hand And my hand's on the sixteen-shot, semi-automatic Crooked cop k**in Glock, tell me Lord Can ya feel me? Show a way I'm prayin but my enemies won't go away And everywhere I turn I see n***as burn Every n***a that I know's on d**h row My younger homie's seventeen and he paid a price Little young motherf**er doin triple life Though I tell him in his letters, it's gettin better If my n***a knew the truth he'd hit the roof Just heard ya baby's mama was smoked out, f** the drama Wanna break my Loc out, smokin blunts Gettin drunk off that Tanqueray gin 'Bout to break my n***a out the f**in' pen' [Hook x8: DJ Chop Up as 2Pac] Smoked out, loc'd out Strap, GO! [Verse 3: 2Pac] I'm on my knees beggin please come and SAVE ME THE WHOLE WORLD done made a n***a crazy! I got my three-five-seven can't control it Screamin die motherf**er and he's loaded Everybody run for cover, aww sh** Thug Life motherf**er, duck quick Now am I wrong if I am don't worry me Cause do or die gettin high till they bury me Dear Lord can ya hear me, when I die Let a n***a be strapped, f**ed up, and high With my hands on the trigger, thug n***a Stressin' like a motherf**in' drug dealer And even in the darkest nights, I'm a thug for Life I got the heart to fight now Mama raised a hell-raiser why cry That's just life in the ghetto, do or die [Hook x8: DJ Chop Up as 2Pac] Smoked out, loc'd out Strap, GO!