Gotta Get Mine

Uh, gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, get yours
 Ayo I'm smooth as I wanna be, fuck with me you's a gonna g!
 (Oh, that's the way it is?)
 Fuck yeah and that's the way it's gonna be
 (Why), puffin up on tha dank and drinking mad brew
 Taking names and after that I'm kickin' ass too
 Breed, time to flow (can I get a rhyme to go)
 Hell yeah, Pac, I'll sit back, straight up design it slow
 They hate to see a young nigga (come up)
 Another punk, (run up) and have to get his (gun up)
 Cause uh I ain't takin no shorts
 Like a Newport fort, exploitin' the floor like Jordan
 Explodin' on the hoop court
 And I don't wanna be, I don't wanna be nuttin' like Mike
 'Cause even Mike was like it's an itsy bit triflin'
 And when you in the spotlight, you get um, jocked right
 But your knot's not tight
 Buckin' anybody who fuck wit' mine
 When will they realize? I'm straight out to get mine
 Yeah, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours (I gotta get mine)
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, get yours
 I keep my mind on my money, money on my mind
 Finger on the trigger, nigga, hand on my 9
 Smokin' blunts a skunk, making holes in punks
 And only underground funk pumpin' out of my trunk
 Live the life of a hustler, high 'til I die
 Meeting bitches, getting riches, miss me with lies
 Picture me living out my life as a busta
 I'd rather pop out a shot from my Glock and blast mothafuckas
 I live the thug life, baby, I'm hopeless
 Chokin' off indo, tryin' to keep my focus
 Don't let that bullshit worry me
 Fuck the fame, I'm true to the game 'til they bury me
 God gave me game, so I'm hustlin'
 Pour out some liquor for my niggas, 2Pac is still strugglin'
 My nigga Breed knew the time
 Whether it's rhyme or crime, nigga, I gotta get mine
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, get yours
 Now, tell me van you measure the amount of applause I keep gettin'?
 Every time I pick up a mic and start spittin'
 The sidewalks of New York will start bumpin'
 Jumpin' around, with the motherfuckin' pound
 And I'm down to the fullest, and breakin' nigga's ass off proper
 Did I shock you, 'cause I got you in my pocket again
 Them new jacks and you jacks
 Who knew me and my niggas, when I used to run it way back when
 I boasted, and roasted, and coasted to the pinnacle
 Because of what I do with a pen
 It's vernacular precision
 Connect the two lines and it's division
 Plus, when I add lutes and flutes
 It's guaranteed to sell like prostitutes
 I never had a love for hoes who put it blunt
 And want me in the back, but, bitch, I'm in the front!
 Don't front, and really I don't need a reply
 Pull yourself together as you pass me by
 I'm on a whole another level, them hoes is left
 I told you before, keep ya pussy to yourself
 Goodbye, some many niggas lied to have
 Funny what a motherfucker do for math
 I got fractions caught up in my everyday actions
 Point equal to your real satisfaction
 Buckin' anybody who fuck wit' mine
 When will they realize, I'm straight out to get mine haha
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours
 I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours