Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Crooked Nigga Too’ 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.
Yo ‘Pac yo, I heard you got beat up by the police
Got a big fat lawsuit and everything
Niggas just wanna know
If you still gon’ be on some crooked-ass sheeeit
Please tell me what’s a nigga to do, and it’s true
Ain’t nuttin new, so I do, what I can to get through
Now first they had me trapped and now I’m pissed
A loaded AK-47 lay under my head so I don’t trip
One motherfucker from the Underground
And Big Stretch buckin niggas if they f*ck around
Yo why I got beef with police?
Ain’t that a bitch that motherfuckers got a beef with me
They make it hard for me to sleep
I wake up at the slightest peep, and my sheets are 3 feet deep
I guess it’s hard for you to see
But now I’m pointin the finger at police
Instead of them motherfuckers blamin me
I got the right to bear a pistol
And when the punk motherfuckers get to trippin I got shit too
And maybe then you’ll see the truth (hell yeah)
But until then, I gotta do what I do
And stay a crooked nigga too
I’ve got to do, what I’m gon’ do
I’m gon’ say what I’m gon’ say
I’m gon’ live how I live, how else you want a nigga to live?
I’m gon’ do, what I do
I’m gon’ say, what I say
I’m gon’ live how I live, how do you want a nigga to live?
Y’know you really can’t say that ya blame niggas
F*ck bein tame, set aflame, time to aim triggers
2Pac’ll spark a revolution, f*ck the Constitution
I want my bucks for restitution
This time you got a bigger problem
Time to face the niggas from South Central, Oakland, Brooklyn and Harlem
And we ain’t shootin at each other
That’s my motherfuckin brother, so Dave Duke, run for cover
And all the bitches from the Klan
Come feel the wrath of a black man that doesn’t smoke crack and
I don’t drink St. Ides (f*ck that!)
Genuine Draft, ganja ganja, and my fuckin tec-9
They know they scared to see us sober
Stop drinkin King Cobra, and niggas’ll take the world over
It’s all up to you (up to you)
Blame the Korean, blame the jew, or be a crooked nigga too
I’ve got to do, what I’m gon’ do
I’m gon’ say what I’m gon’ say
I’m gon’ live how I live, how else you want a nigga to live?
I’m gon’ do, what I do
I’m gon’ say, what I say
I’m gon’ live how I live, how do you want a nigga to live?
Aiyyo! Why me? Play like Jasmine Guy and try me
I’ll be damned if I die, come look at the rage in my eyes G
They got my homies in a jail cell
And it’s the Rebel and the Devil, and one of us is goin to Hell
I got the whole place covered, with loc’d out brothers
And nuttin but love for each other
So motherfucker make a motion
I give a f*ck, slice you up, and throw your ass in the ocean
Temperatures drop; see it’s cool to shoot a nigga
But they hate it when we pop the cops
That’s when they gettin petrol
You better watch your step or you’ll be left on death row
But I learn to look ahead of me
Stay strapped watch your back keep your eyes on the enemy
We blowin up precincts and OOOH
You can’t f*ck with the crew, of crooked nigga too
I’ve got to do, what I’m gon’ do
I’m gon’ say what I’m gon’ say
I’m gon’ live how I live, how else you want a nigga to live?
I’m gon’ do, what I do
I’m gon’ say, what I say
I’m gon’ live how I live, how do you want a nigga to live?
It’s the coldest town from here to Georgia
(I’m a crooked nigga too)
It’s the coldest town from here to Georgia
It’s the coldest town from here to Georgia
(I’m a crooked.. crooked nigga too)
It’s the coldest town from here to Georgia
Y’all gon’ stop fuckin with me
I’ve got to do, what I’m gon’ do
I’m gon’ say what I’m gon’ say
I’m gon’ live how I live, how else you want a nigga to live?
I’m gon’ do, what I do
I’m gon’ say, what I say
I’m gon’ live how I live, how do you want a nigga to live?