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lirik lagu 2 pac – point the finger

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you could get the finger
come and get some!!
the middle.
aaaww yeah!
they love to point the finger.
boom!boom!boom! on your black -ss, b-tch.
-chorus repeats-
i thought i hit rock bottom,
then my alb-m point the finger.
i guess n-body loves a real n-gg–slash-rap singer.
i thought i’d bring a little truth to the young troops.
i brought proof that the n-gg-s need guns too.
it’s not to be a racist, but let’s face this.
wouldn’t you if we could trace places.
i got lynch spots from the cops.
and till this day, the same motha f-cka on the beats gettin major pay.
but wheni get my techa-techa techs out.
so, we prayin for these pigs to knock the blacks out.
ain’t that a b-tch.
some officers’ll get rich.
whoopin on thugs and robbin drug dealers for their sh-t.
as far as jealousy, being a celebrity,
no matter who committed the crime, they all yell at me.
and the media is greedier than most.
you could sell em your soul and they’ll be on ya till a n-gg-‘s a ghost.
and everyday i read the paper, there’s another lie.
they show my picture for the crimes of another guy. now how’s that for the life of a big shot.
a dead cop, a law suit, a little kid shot.
i play them funky -ss marks in the park
by tryin to earn their stripes in the dark.
just cuz i come here, don’t mean i from here.
peep.
only jealous motha f-cka beef.
point the finger.
-chorus repeats-
as i run up on a mad man, a nut case with a screw loose.
a zoot troupe full of foolies with toolies.
n-gg-s run to me.
don’t come to me with beef.
take your jewels and your jeep.
boom! boom!, let that -ss sleep.
it’s gettin hectic.
n-gg-s run quick.
buckshots are the payback for dumb sh-t.
all you n-gg-s on the block tryin to test me,
best wear a vest so i could open like i’m sesame.
i’ll run up on your man deep.
while your tryin to sleep, i’m steady pumpin bullets in your sheets.
wake up.
motha f-cka, don’t stutter.
point blank by a n-gg- from the gutter.
yeah.
give me mine, give me mine, give me mine.
made my rhyms, now i’m back here bustin 9’s.
and brothas can’t get none. h-ll no.
a quick fury and he’s bury with a swell jaw.
i came in from the amateaurs to pro hits.
and 5-0, so you know i take no sh-t.
and everybody wants to kill a bringer.
i’m bad news so they choose,
to point the finger.
-chorus repeats-
1,2,3.
peace to the real gs.
stay mean till these motha f-ckas kill me.
i bring skills and i been killin wills.
smokin sess till i’m ill.
still feel me?
i say 1,2,3.
peace to the real gs.
still mean till these motha f-ckas kill me.
pick it up, pick it up, give it up.
best to duck or get f-cked for bucks.
scream 1,2,3.
peace to the real gs.
still mean till these motha f-ckas kill me.
i can’t give up.
it’s a rap thang.
and i ain’t goin back to the crack game.
you can do it son.
be a man and stand up or run.
b-tches, let em point the finger.
you can do it son.
be a man and stand up or run.
snitches, let em point the finger.
yo, 1,2,3.
peace to the real gs.
still mean till these motha f-ckas kill me.
i guess n-body loves a rap singer.
that’s why these motha f-ckas point the finger.
-chorus repeats-