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2pac - Welcome 2 My Block Clinton Sparks Rmx Lyrics

Welcome 2 My Block (Clinton Sparks RMX) Lyrics[Chorus: Damian Marley & 2Pac]
Out in the street (2Pac!), they call it murder
On my block...
Out in the street, they call it murder

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
They got a nigga shedding tears, reminiscin' on my past fears
'Cause shit was hectic for me last year
It appears that I've been marked for death
My heartless breath, the underlying cause of my arrest
My life is stressed, and no rest forever weary
My eyes stay teary for all the brothers that are buried in the cemetery
Shit's scary, our black on black crime legendary
But at times unnecessary, I'm gettin' worried
Teardrops and closed caskets, the three strikes law is drastic
And certain death for us ghetto bastards
What can we do when we're arrested, but open fire
Life in the pen' ain't for me, 'cause I'd rather die
But don't cry through your despair
I wonder if the Lord still cares, for us niggas on welfare
And who cares if we survive
The only time they notice a nigga is when he clutchin' on a four-five
My neighborhood ain't the same
'Cause all the little babies goin' crazy and they sufferin' in the game
And I swear it's like a trap
But I ain't given up on the hood it's all good when I go back

[Chorus: Damian Marley & 2Pac]
Out in the street, they call it murder
On my block...
Out in the street, they call it murder (Haha, that's how you do that shit)

[Verse 2: Nas]
Hot like 95 Fahrenheit
On a summer night, tight spot where bodies rot
Rats drink from water drops in the streets (uh huh)
Little kids, scared cops with red dots
Philosophical gangsta, where violent priors
Goin' back like black and white TV's with pliers
Leanin' on broke down cars with flat tires
Flash iron on anybody tryin' on the blocks I'm supplyin' on
Madicon, my peeps, tie balloons up
Then swallow 'em in the penal, got goons, lots of 'em
Cops see them and run, don't want no drama
Certain parts of the streets, the beast don't want a part of
Martyr, hood haunted like the Dakota
Where John Lennon was shot up, but he sang for peace
He begged for freedom, hanged with wild Jamicians
From Kingston, who drink Irish Moss
Listenin' to Peter Winston, Machintosh
Lightning hits the top of the church steeple
When I'm writin', semi-(automatic) no hyphen

[Chorus: Damian Marley & 2Pac]
Out in the street, they call it murder
On my block...
Out in the street, they call it murder (Wassup nigga)

[Verse 3: Scarface]
On my block, we duck the nigga haters and the cops
Fuck a hotrod, we race Impalas, chromed, out
On my block, it ain't no different than the next block
Ya get drunk and pass out, and they pack ya to the house
And when you wake up on the couch you going right back at it
On my block when ya that fucked up they laugh at it
On my block, it's just another day in the heart
Of the Southside of Houston Texas, making your mark
On my block, we're cuing all the time, playing dominoes
Keep the Swishers sweet down until my Mama goes
Back inside ,, then we can fire
Pass it around a few times to get high
Everyday it's been the same old thang on my block
You either working or you slanging cocaine on my block
You had to hustle, cause that's how we was raised on my block
And you stayed on your hop until you made you a knot
On my block