Tupac Amaru Shakur nació el 16 de junio de 1971 en Harlem, Nueva York. Sus padres, Afeni Shakur y Billy Garland, eran miembros del Partido Pantera Negra, un movimiento revolucionario que luchaba por los derechos civiles de la comunidad afroamericana. Este entorno radical influyó profundamente en la vida y obra de Tupac.
De joven, Tupac demostró un talento excepcional para las artes escénicas. Asistió a la Escuela de Artes de Baltimore, donde estudió teatro, poesía y ballet. Allí conoció a Jada Pinkett, una amiga cercana que más tarde se convertiría en una destacada actriz de Hollywood.
En 1991, Tupac comenzó su carrera musical como corista del grupo de rap Digital Underground. Su talento rápidamente le permitió lanzar su primer álbum en solitario, 2Pacalypse Now, en 1991. Este disco causó controversia debido a sus letras cargadas de mensajes sociales y políticos.
En 1993, Tupac lanzó su segundo álbum, Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z., que incluía éxitos como I Get Around y Keep Ya Head Up. Este álbum consolidó su lugar en la industria musical y le otorgó un estatus de estrella.
A medida que su carrera musical crecía, Tupac también incursionó en el cine, protagonizando películas como Juice (1992) y Poetic Justice (1993) junto a Janet Jackson.
Tupac no estuvo exento de problemas legales. En 1994, fue acusado de abuso sexual y posteriormente sentenciado a prisión. Sin embargo, su influencia y popularidad no disminuyeron.
El pivote de su
Ver BiograFia Completa
Break ‘Em Off Somethin’ Lyrics
Break 'Em Off Somethin' Recorded in 1991 Originally recorded for 2Pacalypse Now Produced by Big D The Impossible (Deon Evans)[Intro]
Come on, break em off somethin'
Yea, come on break em off somethin' (with that funky funky style)
Come on break em off somethin'
Yea, come on break em off somethin' (with that funky funky style)
[Verse 1: 2Pac]
Red light, green light, one, two, three
Tell me why O.P.D. sweatin' me
Is it for the major grip that I'm makin'
Is it for the fact that 'Pac don't be fakin'
Best think before you draw black
I ain't the one to bite my tongue, 2Pacalypse will smoke back
And I don't need a posse, my Glocks like a pocket full of Rockies
Takin' out the cop team
Don't mock me, sucka just jock me
Fifty to the first that can drop me
Better talk it like ya walk it when we swing 'em
Yea little square we can sling 'em
Got a posse you can bring 'em
Watch me, pop, pop, bang, boom, ping 'em
Big D's in the house, pass the crazy horse
'Cause them suckas can't fade me, yeah
[Chorus]
(Yea!, yea Mopreme Shakur, thug life, Outlaw)
Kill a nigga kill a nigga (strictly representing)
Come on, break em off somethin'
Yea, come on break em off somethin' (with that funky, funky style)
Kill a nigga kill a nigga
Come on break em off somethin'
Yea, come on break em off somethin' (with that funky, funky style)
[Verse 2: Dub-C]
Now make a make a way here I come with a clip
Dub-C and they got me on some freestyle type shit huh
So nigga go and run hard as you can and take cover
Mad circle mutilate motherfuckers
And I can't stand them niggas in plateaus
Fuck a dancer, I'm hoopin' 'cause my crew don't dance
Khakis and them steel toe boots is how we roll
Madder than a serial killer on a ho stroll
And I don't know about y'all but I'm down to rep
Packin' all these niggas who be dissin' the underground
Motherfuck god, I diss 'em on wax
Catch 'em slippin' backstage start fadin' they ass
Oops there goes that ghetto mentality
The same reason you never see my video on your T.V
'Cause we don't say what they want us to say
Fuck rhythm and blues and the police too, fool
You niggas can't stop me if I gave ya a free steel to the jaw, you still couldn't drop me
So don't try to sneak on that creep tip
'Cause you'll get that ass kicked quick, bitch
So go in the house y'all here comes that crazy nigga
Flippin' on the mailman and innocent bystanders
Suckers will get knocked down
Dub-C bringin' noise from the mother fuckin' underground
[Chorus]
Kill a nigga kill a nigga
Come on, break 'em off somethin'
Yea, come on break 'em off somethin' (with that funky, funky style)
Kill a nigga, kill a nigga
Come on break 'em off somethin'
Yea, come on break em off somethin' (with that funky, funky style)
[Bridge: Money B]
Wicked, wicked, in that Oak Town fashion
Wicked, wicked, in that Oak Town fashion
Wicked, wicked, in that Oak Town fashion
Wicked Money B, I am that odical dodge
(Who's bad?)
[Verse 3: Money B]
I'm the worst-est wicked as I wanna be
Stand if you want to, but don't you dare stand in front of me
Daddy Mack trickin', what you did then all fuckin' shit up
Well here's a little more dick for you to suck
And all these years that I be rappin'
Styles that I'll be flashin'
Kind of like Nike, I never have to ask questions
All it takes, is a place, and a place, and a time and a rhyme
If I find ya, you'll be hidin' in my face
I'll be on it like a [?]
Stingin' like a bumble
Out the trunk with this funky attitude
Fuck the humble
Got this stamina to be on the mic
Mashin' in the stance you style's the [?]
I'm about to catch a bulge in my pants
And the bigger the butt, the bigger the nut that I mistrust
I can catch a bum rush layin' in the cut
Like a panther on the prowl, searchin' for agile, don't ask scoop
You're not a now, but I'll tellin' MC how we should
Take ya time, take ya, take ya, take ya time
Mc's take ya time before ya start the rhyme
Yes!
Take ya time, take ya, take ya, take ya time
MC's take ya time before ya start the rhyme
So are you Filthy McNasty? Rappin' too fast
Ask me, I say we slow and flow and roll ya ass
Peace to Down W, Big D, 2Pac, and Mack
Sideways to your momma's house
[Chorus]
Kill a nigga kill a nigga
Come on, break 'em off somethin'
Yea, come on break 'em off somethin' (with that funky, funky style)
Kill a nigga, kill a nigga
Come on break 'em off somethin'
Yea, come on break 'em off somethin' (with that funky, funky style)
[Verse 4: Debbie Deb]
I shift the nigga no respect 'fore he plays me
Come off that bullshit fool you can save these
Spare me the comedy fool, you gets no props
And if you think I'm fuckin' around, hear the gun pop
Gotta break your ass off, some of that reality
Niggas don't know about the D to the E to the B
So I start kickin', the funky-ass [?] shit
The shit on the microphone motherfuckers can't fuck with
You want something to play with?
Warm your ass like gum, as I push in the clip pump pump
From a woman's perspective, live from the motherland
[?] my objective
Let this microphone pump, as I pump and stomp huh
To make a fly guy shake they rumps
[?] too much
Money B and W.C. the D.E.B down with the motherfuckin S.T