Paroles: 2Pac. 3 Messages.

(feat. Nas, Obie Trice)

[2pac:]
I see mothers in black cryin, brothers in packs dyin
Plus everybody's high, too doped up to ask why
Watchin our own downfall, witness the end
It's like we don't believe in God cause we livin in sin
I asked my homie on the block why he strapped, he laughed
Pointed his pistol as the cop car passed and blast
It's just another murder, nobody mourns no more
My tear drops gettin bigger but can't figure what I'm cryin for
Is it the miniature caskets, little babies
Victims of a stray, from drug dealers gone crazy
Maybe it's just the drugs, visions of how the block was
Crack came and it was strange how it rocked us
Perhaps the underlyin fact they hide explain genocide
It's when we ride on our own kind
What is it we all fear, reflections in the mirror
We can't escape fate, the end is gettin nearer

[Nas:]
Imagine smoking weed in the streets without cops harassing
Imagine going to court with no trial
Lifestyle cruising blue behind my waters
No welfare supporters more conscious of the way we raise our daughters
Days are shorter, nights are colder
Feeling like life is over, these snakes strike like a cobra
The world's hot my son got knocked evidentaly
It's elementary, they want us all gone eventually
Trooping out of state for a plate knowledge
Of coke was cooked without the garbage we'd all have the top dollars
Imagine everybody flashing, fashion
Designer clothes, lacing your click up with diamond vogues
Your people holding dough, no parole
No rubbers, go in raw imagine law with no undercovers
Just some thoughts for the mind
I take a glimpse into time
Watch the blimp read "The World Is Mine"

[Obie Trice:]
They say why don't we increase the peace
The only peace increased is that which deletes your peeps
Cause niggaz run mouths but they don't run streets
Till that 4 5 will cease the speech
Yeah it's a shame how the beef'll creep
Could've reached the peep, now you're left with a horrible leak
I'm tryin to be as bleak with my speech as possible
Just in case a nigga tryin to throw me an obstacle
Nigga, I'm not boxin you, I'm hospitable
I put you in a hospital, that's how I get at you
Let the doc op on you, he don't rid you?
You back on the streets? I send another hit at you
This is not a hypocritical issue
I will critical condition your tissue
Give a fuck if all ten of them with you
I throw an extra ten of them missiles
Turn gangstas into gentlemen vicko
And ever since Eminem dissed you
I swear I see the women and bitch in you
All this bickering back and forth over who signs who
Curtis, pull your skirt up, nigga, you got murdered
Now take it like a man and shake it off. Damn
And quit tellin all these magazines your plans
How you gone slap up my mans, you're ficticious
Nigga, we send Stan to come murder your bitches