Biggie/Tupac Live Freestyle – Song and Lyrics by 2Pac

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Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Biggie/Tupac Live Freestyle’ by 2Pac. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 2Pac or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

Where Brooklyn at?, Where Brooklyn at?
Where Brooklyn at?, Where Brooklyn at?
We gonna do it like this
Anytime your ready, check it!

I got seven Mac 11’s, about eight
38’s, nine 9’s, ten Mac 10’s, the shits never ends
You can’t touch my riches, even if you had
MC Hammer and them 357 bitches
Biggie Smalls, the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht
The two weed spots, the two hot Glocks
That’s how I got the weedspot
I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the Lamb spread
Little Gotti got the shotty to your body
So don’t resist, or you might miss Christmas
I tote guns, I make number runs
I give mc’s the runs drippin’
When I throw my clip in the AK
I slay from far away
Everybody hit the D-E-C-K
My slow flow’s remarkable, peace to Matteo
Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniffed the yayo
That’s crazy blunts, mad L’s
My voice excels from the avenue to jail cells
Oh my God, I’m droppin shit like a pigeon
I hope you’re listenin, smackin’ babies at they christening

Motherfucking Biggie Smalls
What you gonna do with it 2Pac?
Yeah where the motherfuckin thugs at?
Throw your motherfucking middle finger
We gonna do this shit like this

I thank the Lord for my many blessings, though I’m stressin
Keep a vest for protection, from the barrel of a Smith & Wesson
And all my niggas in the pen, here we go again
Ain’t nuttin separatin us from a MacK 10
Born in the ghetto as a hustler, hold up
A straight soldier, bucking at the busters
No matter how you try, niggas never die
We just retaliate with hate, then we multiply
You see me striking down the block, hitting corners
Mobbing like a motherfucker, living like I – wanna
And ain’t no stopping at the red lights, I’m sideways
Thug Life motherfucker crime, pays!
Let the cops put they lights on, chase me nigga
Zig zaggin through the freeway, race me nigga
In a high speed chase with the law
The realest motherfucker, that you ever saw