Gotta Get Mine

Uh, gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, get yours Ayo I'm smooth as I wanna be, fuck with me you's a gonna g! (Oh, that's the way it is?) Fuck yeah and that's the way it's gonna be (Why), puffin up on tha dank and drinking mad brew Taking names and after that I'm kickin' ass too Breed, time to flow (can I get a rhyme to go) Hell yeah, Pac, I'll sit back, straight up design it slow They hate to see a young nigga (come up) Another punk, (run up) and have to get his (gun up) Cause uh I ain't takin no shorts Like a Newport fort, exploitin' the floor like Jordan Explodin' on the hoop court And I don't wanna be, I don't wanna be nuttin' like Mike 'Cause even Mike was like it's an itsy bit triflin' And when you in the spotlight, you get um, jocked right But your knot's not tight Buckin' anybody who fuck wit' mine When will they realize? I'm straight out to get mine Yeah, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours (I gotta get mine) I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, get yours I keep my mind on my money, money on my mind Finger on the trigger, nigga, hand on my 9 Smokin' blunts a skunk, making holes in punks And only underground funk pumpin' out of my trunk Live the life of a hustler, high 'til I die Meeting bitches, getting riches, miss me with lies Picture me living out my life as a busta I'd rather pop out a shot from my Glock and blast mothafuckas I live the thug life, baby, I'm hopeless Chokin' off indo, tryin' to keep my focus Don't let that bullshit worry me Fuck the fame, I'm true to the game 'til they bury me God gave me game, so I'm hustlin' Pour out some liquor for my niggas, 2Pac is still strugglin' My nigga Breed knew the time Whether it's rhyme or crime, nigga, I gotta get mine I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, get yours Now, tell me van you measure the amount of applause I keep gettin'? Every time I pick up a mic and start spittin' The sidewalks of New York will start bumpin' Jumpin' around, with the motherfuckin' pound And I'm down to the fullest, and breakin' nigga's ass off proper Did I shock you, 'cause I got you in my pocket again Them new jacks and you jacks Who knew me and my niggas, when I used to run it way back when I boasted, and roasted, and coasted to the pinnacle Because of what I do with a pen It's vernacular precision Connect the two lines and it's division Plus, when I add lutes and flutes It's guaranteed to sell like prostitutes I never had a love for hoes who put it blunt And want me in the back, but, bitch, I'm in the front! Don't front, and really I don't need a reply Pull yourself together as you pass me by I'm on a whole another level, them hoes is left I told you before, keep ya pussy to yourself Goodbye, some many niggas lied to have Funny what a motherfucker do for math I got fractions caught up in my everyday actions Point equal to your real satisfaction Buckin' anybody who fuck wit' mine When will they realize, I'm straight out to get mine haha I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours

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