Last Wordz Lyrics - 2pac

Ice Cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house 

The nigga you love to hate 

Ice Cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house 

The nigga you love to hate 

Ice Cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house 

Yo, here comes the nigga with the ruff, terror 

The paranoid, gots to get the boy 

Get your steel 'cuz I feel like a headbanger 

Yah, I got a gang of shits 

Styles guns my Uzzie wieghts a mutha-fuckin' ton 

Bucking down one, bucking down two 

Bucking down your crew, mutha fuck you 

Pigs were blue, I where black, nothing but black 

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'Cause god damn its a brand new payback 

Fuck Pat Sajak, never did nothing for a nigga 

On tha trigga, the zigga, the zag, the nickel, the bag 

The nigga, the sag, the forty five mag, got you runnin' like a fag 

So, keep your mutha-fuckin' jokes 

'Cuz, I'm that nigga with a fresh pair of locs, no yokes but smokes 

Crakers and them dirty mackers friends aren't jackers 

Get yah for your drawers, young niggas out to kill for cars 

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house 

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house 

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house 

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house 

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house 

Oh, to the mutha fuckin' G I break crazy 

A lot of niggas hate me but they can't fade me 

Stop me, clock me, cops wanna glock me 

Mutha fuck, mutha fuck, pigs can't stop me 

Photos 

Uhh, am I a G, I got proof 

Banged in my youth, keep niggas on the roof 

With a scope, dough, Cube keep the rope 

Tupac string a nigga up, hit the mob dope 

So what's up Punk 

You want what I got step to me wrong fuck around and get shot 

Your mom's crying fuck her, bust her 

Bitch start screaming to me and I'll dust her 

Pops got the LP phat, track on hit 

Laid by the mutha fuckin' Bobcat 

Ninety three suckas want me to go out 

Throw the hoe out, bitch mutha fucker I'm rich 

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house 

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house 

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house 

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house 

Got any last wordz 

Now they're after me, why? 'Cuz a niggas black 

Sit back, ain't afraid to pull a triggar back 

Let 'em come step to a real mutha-fucker 

Mama ain't raised no suckers 

Dan Quayle, don't you know you need to get your ass kicked 

Where was you when there was niggas in the caskets? 

Mutha-fucker rednecks all the same 

Feel a real nigga if he ain't balled and chained 

That's why we burn shit and wreck 

'Cuz the punk police ain't learned shit yet 

You mutha-fuckas gonna pay the price 

Can't make a Black life, don't take a Black life 

It's on, the next real nigga fall dead 

Dred, Jheri Curl, process, or bald head 

Be prepared for the smoke to bust 

What niggas need to do is start loc'in up 

United we stand, divided we fall 

They can shoot one nigga but they can't take us all 

Let's get along with the Mexicans 

And we can all have peace on the sets again 

Imagine that if it took place 

Keeping the smile off their white fakes 

I ain't racist but let's trade places 

Trace the hate 'n face it 

One nigga teach two niggas, three teach four niggas 

And them niggas teach more niggas 

And when we blast that'll be the biggest blast you've heard 

And them is my last wordz