[1] "You could get the finger.. the middle!"
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[2]"Come and get some!"
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[2Pac]
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Ahh yeah, they love to point the finger
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[1] [2]
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Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch
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[1] [2] Niggaz love to point the finga
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Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch
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[1] [2]
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[2Pac]
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I thought I hit rock bottom, they ban my album, point the finga
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I guess nobody loves a real nigga-slash-rap singer
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I thought I'd bring a little truth to the young troops
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I brought proof that the niggaz need guns too
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It's not to be a racist, but let's face this:
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wouldn't you if we could trade places?
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I got lynched by some crooked cops, and to this day
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them same motherfuckers on the beat gettin major paid
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But when I get my check they takin tax out
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So, we payin for these pigs to knock the blacks out
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Ain't that a bitch, some officers are gettin rich
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Whoopin on thugs and robbin drug dealers for they shit
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As far as jealousy, bein a celebrity
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No matter who committed the crime, they all yell at me
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And the media is greedier than most
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You could sell em your soul or they'll be on ya til a niggaz ghost
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And everyday I read the paper there's another lie
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They show my picture for the crimes of another guy
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Now how's that for the life of a big shot
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A dead cop, a law suit, a little kid shot
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I play them nuttin ass marks in the park
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for tryin to earn they stripes in the dark
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Just cause I come there, don't mean I from there, peep:
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only jealous motherfuckers beef, and point the finga
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[Chorus: repeat 4X]
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Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch
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[1] [2]
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[2Pac]
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As I run up on em madman, a nutcase with a screw loose
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A zoot troupe full of foolies with toolies
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Niggaz run to me don't come to me with beef
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Take your jewels and your jeep, boom boom! Let that ass sleep
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It's gettin hectic, niggaz run, quick
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Buckshots are the payback for dumb shit
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All you niggaz on the block tryin to test me
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Best wear a vest or get open like, sesame
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I'll run up on you mad deep; while you're tryin to sleep
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I'm steady pumpin bullets in your sheets
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Wake up, motherfucker, don't stutter
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Point blank by a nigga from the gutter, yeah!
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Gimme mine, gimme mine, gimme, mine
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Ban my rhymes, now I'm back to bustin, nines
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And bustaz can't get none, hell no
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A quick flurry and he's buried with a swelled jaw
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I came up from the amateurs to pro hits
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at 5-0, so you know I take no shit
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And everybody wants to kill a bringer
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of bad news, so they choose, to point the finga
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[Chorus]
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[2Pac]
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One two three, peace to the real G's
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Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me
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I bring skills and I build, kill at will
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Smoke sess til I'm ill, still feel me?
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I say one two three, peace to the real G's
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Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me
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Pick it up, pick it up, give it up
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Best to duck or get fucked for your bucks
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Scream one two three, peace to the real G's
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Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me
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I can't give up, it's a black thang
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And I ain't goin back to the crack game
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(You can do it son; be a man and stand up or run)
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Bitches, let em point the finga
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(You can do it son; be a man and stand up or run)
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Snitches, let em point the finga
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Yo, one two three, peace to the real G's
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Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me
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I guess nobody loves a rap singer
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That's why these motherfuckers.. (hahaha!) point the finga
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[Chorus]
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[Chorus]
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[Chorus 3/4]
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For more information visit fanclub of 2Pac http://brainstormlive.com/d/pg/groups/78478/2pac/.
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-----------------
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Point The Finga
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Free Diamonds |