[[Intro]
"It's the same murder! You made our streets into what these people call the 'killing field!'"](19417912)
[Verse 1: 2Pac]
The motherfuckin' dust kicker, who can you trust?
Do you have the heart to see a nigga, before you bust?
My name is spoken on the tongues of so many foes
Bustin' motherfuckers out the box, I ain't even go
Now how the hell do you explain my claim to fame?
From doin' flicks to bustin' tricks out the fuckin' frame
Got these bitches on my jock, niggas on my block
Jealous ass suckers got 'em duckin' from my smokin' Glock
And bustin' niggas asses to stay alive
Skinny ass player watchin' bigger motherfuckers fry
They ask me how I'm livin', high, I'm a hustler
Buckin' busters 'til they die
Now it's on in the ghetto, you ain't heard?
Niggas got they AKs headin' for them 'burbs
Aimin' at them skinhead bitches, let it rain
Givin' 'em a wet welcome to the house of pain
[[Interlude]
"In a city that's upset by the challenge of racial tension at many levels, where the level of violence is higher this year than last"
"Our city is a war zone"](19417912)
[Verse 2: Stretch]
Yo, I'm hunting down this nigga and he know so he stressin'
He better count his blessings and get ready for this lesson
The Stretch 'bout to teach him when I reach him with the MAC
And lay that ass down on his motherfucking back, Jack
Slack is something that a nigga don't take
His moms run the church, so I'ma see her at his fucking wake
Make way, the nigga paid me the other day
I'm walking with my son and the nigga had somethin' to say
Hey! The nigga tried to diss, boy, he got it twisted
He shoulda watched America's Most, I'm listed
For killing motherfuckers like him
So I'ma bring him to the House of Pain and kill him with a grin
Flim flam, goddamn, I'm not the one
Before I choke him and smoke him, I'ma smack him with my fuckin' gun
Son, you made your last mistake and I don't know your name
But welcome to the House of Pain
"It's the same murder! You made our streets into what these people call the 'killing field!'"](19417912)
[Verse 1: 2Pac]
The motherfuckin' dust kicker, who can you trust?
Do you have the heart to see a nigga, before you bust?
My name is spoken on the tongues of so many foes
Bustin' motherfuckers out the box, I ain't even go
Now how the hell do you explain my claim to fame?
From doin' flicks to bustin' tricks out the fuckin' frame
Got these bitches on my jock, niggas on my block
Jealous ass suckers got 'em duckin' from my smokin' Glock
And bustin' niggas asses to stay alive
Skinny ass player watchin' bigger motherfuckers fry
They ask me how I'm livin', high, I'm a hustler
Buckin' busters 'til they die
Now it's on in the ghetto, you ain't heard?
Niggas got they AKs headin' for them 'burbs
Aimin' at them skinhead bitches, let it rain
Givin' 'em a wet welcome to the house of pain
[[Interlude]
"In a city that's upset by the challenge of racial tension at many levels, where the level of violence is higher this year than last"
"Our city is a war zone"](19417912)
[Verse 2: Stretch]
Yo, I'm hunting down this nigga and he know so he stressin'
He better count his blessings and get ready for this lesson
The Stretch 'bout to teach him when I reach him with the MAC
And lay that ass down on his motherfucking back, Jack
Slack is something that a nigga don't take
His moms run the church, so I'ma see her at his fucking wake
Make way, the nigga paid me the other day
I'm walking with my son and the nigga had somethin' to say
Hey! The nigga tried to diss, boy, he got it twisted
He shoulda watched America's Most, I'm listed
For killing motherfuckers like him
So I'ma bring him to the House of Pain and kill him with a grin
Flim flam, goddamn, I'm not the one
Before I choke him and smoke him, I'ma smack him with my fuckin' gun
Son, you made your last mistake and I don't know your name
But welcome to the House of Pain
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