Correction Lyrics Saari Raat (Hip-Hop Remix) by 2Pac

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Lyrics

Follow me, tell me if you feel me
I think n***as is tryin' to kill me
Picturin' pistols, spittin' hollow points 'til they drill me
Keepin' it real, and even if I do conceal
My criminal thoughts, preoccupied with keepin' steel
See, n***as is false, sittin' in court, turned snitches
That used to be real, but now they petrified b*t*hes
I'm tryin' to be strong, they sendin' armies out to bomb me
Listen to Ron, the only DJ that can calm me
Constantly armed, my firepower keep me warm
I'm trapped in the storm and f**k the world 'til I'm gone
b*t*hes be warned: word is bond, you'll get torn
I'm bustin' on Giuliani, he rubbin' my n***as wrong
And then it's on, before I leave, picture me
I'm spittin' at punk b*t*hes and hustlin' to be free
Watch me set it, n***as don't want it, you can get it
Bet it make these jealous n***as mad I said it
This thug life n***a, we don't cater to you hoes
f**k with me and have a hundred motherf**kers at yo' do' with 44's
Hahahahaha, yeah, n***a! Thug Life!

In the sanctuary, I just banged a jezzy
I've got her coming back like Makaveli
She wanna stay the night, I wanna lay the pipe
Late at night, big d**k she's got stage fright
Next day she was limping, scrimping
Plush restaurants, we've got the shrimp in
They're acting like they've never seen a Paki pimping, stinking
Connect don't speak, he's just blinking
Cocaine I was sprinkling
Pimp that b*t*h out until she's wrinkling
Looking for a pie to put my finger in, mingling
When I was in pen I could hear the keys jingling, tingling
Smoking on Mimosa, just ate a samosa, I tell her come closer
This fast ting ain't fitting in the holster, no Sir, sticky like a poster
We've got mob ties like La Cosa Nostra, hit you with the toaster

I'm hard, Jehovah said I'm barred from the pearly gates
f**k Him, I didn't wanna go to heaven anyway
But my momma got me on my knees with my hands gripped
Talkin' bout some "praise the Lord" sh*t
Hail Mary, f**k her, I never knew her
I'd probably screw her and dump her body in the sewer
Our father, my pops stuck up dope spots big, black, and mean
With the fifth by the Gabardine
What you expected from his next of kin
I'm loco bro, but ain't no Mexican
I got nines in the bedroom, Glocks in the kitchen
A shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while I'm sh*ttin'
The lesson from the Smith &amp; Wesson is depressin'
n***as keep stressin', the same motherf**kin' question
How many shots does it take, to make my heart stop
And my body start to shake, Ron G, stop the break

I be that young, pretty fly, smooth, glorious kid
A Bad Boy, just like Notorious B.I.G
I'll Roc-a-Fella like Shawn Carter
With more game than Ron Harper
The bomb sparker rapper slash charm robber
While y'all be on the corners bummy and high
I be out buyin' the finest sh*t money can buy
You wish you was in a position that I'm in
Hot rhymin', diamonds shinin', autograph signin'
My lifestyle is far out
Every week, bring a different car out
I go to nightclubs and buy the bar out
Uh, cause I keep cream, I'm large on the street scene
Every time I touch mics you hear all the freaks scream
Yeah, yeah; Big L, Harlem's finest, yeah
That n***a who hold it down for Uptown

Hahahaha, this how we do it out here
On this underground real sh*t n***a, it's the heat n***a
Now rewind this motherf**ker, you know you can't help it
Deadly combination bwoy

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