[2Pac]
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Now I've got to ask, on a nigga's ass, tell me will they blast me?
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I think of an alias in case these crooked bitches ask me
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Now, it's gettin crazy after dark, these narcs
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be like tryin to shut me down but I'm too smart
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Now picture me scared of the penitentiary
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I've been movin these things since the days of elementary
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Now tell me what you need when you see me
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I'm stackin G's, buyin all the things on TV, believe me
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I got some killas on my payroll, and they know
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When it's time to handle business, nigga lay low
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Although I'm young, I'm still comin up
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I'm gettin paid, pullin raises on niggas when they runnin up
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The first to pull a strap when there's drama
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Busta, you ain't heard?
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I've been slicin motherfuckerss since I lost my momma
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There ain't a cop that can stop me
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My posse is cocked, G, and they don't quit until they drop me
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I'm loyal to the game
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*Chorus*
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[Treach]
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Without no doubt I ain't no slouch and it ain't time to back down
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So I jumps in and try to stop-a and watch-a
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Slap you cock-eyed like Popeye fucks spinach
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Forgotten more shit than most crews ever know, or ever knew
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Was born with 7 flows and only heaven knew
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For beat the boot sex, the news breaks, the you shakes
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Worse, they heard we got more nerve than a 2-fake
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Yoo-hoo to you crew and you too so you knew
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I'm from Jersey and I'm a teen so your block more than you do
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Whose the new crew?
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Show me your neck brotha, and here's another
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Smack your mother's mamma's mother
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In the first mob of all those other crack lovers
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Back was bitch-ass, trick ass, cluk-clow-cluk-clow
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How ya like me then, how ya like me, hey-ho, how ya like me now?
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Ow, pow, hurt, don't it? Bow, bow, don't run up on it
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The same thing minus "P" hangin possies like an exponent
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Oh yes, rock in slums, ya gots to run it
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It makes no sense to smell like shit
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If old ass George could be Washing-tons
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*Chorus*
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[Riddler]
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Now I be loyal to my niggas on the blocks, just buckin the shots
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And packin the glocks
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and dodgin the cops, and takin over niggas spots
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Poppin after poppin the fools be droppin, the hoes be hoppin
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On my thing cause it hangs like the nets from Above the Rim
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You lookin grim, is it me or him or him
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Or be with me, we be together
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So what's up? We can do whatever
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Cause real niggas stick together
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Till they make it up to heaven
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Through the stress, through the hell, through the 1-8-7
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The shorter the nigga, the bigga the trigga
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The deeper they dig the ditch-a
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The Naughty the Treach
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then through to the Pac I brings the glock I wets up
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You fuckin body, I'm like, Oh my Gody
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Did I really shoot him? Yo I shot him
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So got him, now I puts the crime behind me
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And finds me, a place to lays my head low
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I lives doin my rap, but I dies for my hood row
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So all you fuckin fools better recognize, and know my fuckin name
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I be Riddler to my niggas and I'm loyal to the game
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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Loyal to the Game Feat. G-Unit
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| 2pac |
