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2pac - Deadly Combination Remix Lyrics

Deadly Combination (Remix) Lyrics
Biggie’s verse is from “Stop The Brakes.” 2pac laid his verse hours before he was shot at Quad Studios. It was originally called “Laid And Representing For Ron G.” Initially this song was put together as a… Read More [Intro: Ron G & 2Pac]
Yes, indeed
It's the mix king, Ron G
I got somethin' the world ain't ready for
New York City, L.A., Chicago, Atlanta
D.C., Detroit, New Orleans
Y'all know the deal, flavor
Hahaha
Yeah, nigga, yeah
That's right
Baby, this how we do it

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
Follow me, tell me if you feel me
I think niggas 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, niggas is false, sittin' in court, turned snitches
They used to be real, but now they petrified bitches
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 fuck the world 'til I'm gone
Bitches be warned, word is bond, you'll get torn
I'm bustin' on Giuliani, he rubbin' my niggas wrong
And then it's on, before I leave, picture me
I'm spittin' at punk bitches and hustlin' to be free
Watch me set it
Niggas don't want it, you can get it, bet it
Make these jealous niggas mad, I said it
This Thug Life, nigga, we don't cater to you hoes
Fuck with me, have a hunnid motherfuckers at your door with .44's

[Interlude: 2Pac]
Hahaha
Yeah, nigga
Thug Life

[Verse 2: The Notorious B.I.G.]
I'm hard, Jehovah said I'm barred from the Pearly Gates
Fuck 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" shit
"Hail Mary," fuck 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?
Uh, 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 shittin'
The lesson from the Smith & Wesson is depressin'
Niggas keep stressin' the same motherfuckin' question
How many shots does it take
To make my heart stop, and my body start to shake?
Ron G, stop the break

[Verse 3: Big L]
I be that young, pretty, fly, smooth, glorious kid
A Bad Boy just like Notorious B.I.G
A Roc-A-Fella like Shawn Carter
With more game than Ron Harper
The bomb sparker rapper armed robber
While y'all be on the corners bummy and high
I be out buyin' the finest shit 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

[Outro: Big L & 2Pac]
Yeah, yeah, Big L, Harlem's finest
Yeah, that nigga who hold it down for Uptown
Hahaha
That's how we do it out here on this underground real shit, nigga
It's the heat, nigga
Now, rewind this motherfucker, you know you can't help it
Deadly combination, bwoy