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Me Against the World

It's just me against the world

Oooohhh, oooohhh

Nuttin to lose..
It's just me against the world baby

Oahhhh, oahhhahh

I got nuttin to lose
It's just me against the world

Oh-hahhh

Stuck in the game
Me against the world baby

Can you picture my prophecy?
Stress in the city, the cops is hot for me
The projects is full of bullets, the bodies is droppin
There ain't no stoppin me
Constantly movin while makin millions
Witnessin killings, leavin dead bodies in abandoned buildings
Carries to children cause they're illin
Addicted to killin and the appeal from the cap peelin
Without feelin, but will they last or be blasted?
Hard headed bastard
Maybe he'll listen in his casket -- the aftermath
More bodies being buried -- I'm losing my homies in a hurry
They're relocating to the cemetary
Got me worried, stressin, my vision's blurried
The question is will I live? No one in the world loves me
I'm headed for danger, don't trust strangers
Put one in the chamber whenever I'm feelin this anger
Don't wanna make excuses, cause this is how it is
What's the use unless we're shootin no one notices the youth
It's just me against the world baby

Could somebody help me? I'm out here all by myself
See ladies in stores, Baby Capone's, livin wealthy
Pictures of my birth on this Earth is what I'm dreamin
Seein Daddy's semen, full of crooked demons, already crazy
and screamin I guess them nightmares as a child
had me scared, but left me prepared for a while
Is there another route? For a crooked Outlaw
Veteran, a villian, a young thug, who one day shall fall

Everday there's mo' death, and plus I'm dough-less
I'm seein mo' reasons for me to proceed with thievin
Scheme on the scheming and leave they peeps grieving
Cause ain't no bucks to stack up, my nuts is backed up
I'm bout to act up, go load the Mac up, now watch me klacka
Tried makin fat cuts, but yo it ain't workin
And Evil's lurking, I can see him smirking
when I gets to pervin, so what?
Go put some work in, and make my mail, makin sales
Risking 25 with a 'L', but oh well

With all this extra stressin
The question I wonder is after death, after my last breath
When will I finaly get to rest? Through this supression
they punish the people that's askin questions
And those that possess, steal from the ones without possesions
The message I stress: to make it stop study your lessons
Don't settle for less - even the genius asks-es questions
Be grateful for blessings
Don't ever change, keep your essence
The power is in the people and politics we address
Always do your best, don't let the pressure make you panic
And when you get stranded
And things don't go the way you planned it
Dreamin of riches, in a position of makin a difference
Politicians and hypocrites, they don't wanna listen
If I'm insane, it's the fame made a brother change
It wasn't nuttin like the game
It's just me against the world

Heh, hahahahahahah
That's right
I know it seem hard sometimes but uhh
Remember one thing
Through every dark night, there's a bright day after that
So no matter how hard it get, stick your chest out
Keep your head up, and handle it

2 Pac

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9 besos en el culo

(1,2,3 probando)
(ejem cof cof)

Me presento, soy pepo, váyanse preparando
que a través de este micrófono que tengo entre mis manos
les contaré de mis hermanos
Mi círculo de confianza, compañeros de crianza,
un grupo de pendejos borrachos y faloperos
con pocos pelos en la lengua pero con muchos (en los) huevos.
Somos 5 los malos, 4 los buenos.
Todos copados entre ellos aunque sí un poco violentos.
Escuchá lo que te digo:
no estaría bueno tener a estos locos de enemigos
Mucho menos si salieron a tomar Michel Torino,
bajar unas birras, quemar unos finos.
Nace así la ultraviolencia en el seno del círculo,
fluye la demencia y opaca al mal genio
que por un simple convenio este grupo construye.

Desde los confines del Pelle Turno Tarde
salen estos flacos fanas de Emanuelle y Deep Purple,
con ustedes: Emiliano, Nico, Diego, Mauro y Valen,
Martín, Mariano, Francisco y Marco (o Haker)
Éste último, el rapero, un pelado pendenciero,
jodido, con ropa grande, drogadicto y falopero.
Robbie, el autoritario de pelo largo que siempre grita,
presencia y actitud: "Chupate esta buena pija"
Mirada gacha con pelo sobre el rostro,
nuestro monstruo tirando facha, el buen Trompada (fiel al eskabio)
Bono el sabio, un abuelo consejero,
siempre con peros y acomodándose el pelo.
De todos el más bueno, con ironía, la Destrucción,
ni frío ni calor, solo tiene una remera y un enorme corazón
Nuestra papada Pishito, abundante y afeitada al raz,
un alma errante y bajonera, siempre diciendo: "No fumo maaas"
Oyendo su misma música y algo de ska, ahi está
el Rubio turbio, multideporte con todo el porte en All-Star.
Detrás del culo de mina, está el gato de la Resina,
siempre vistiendo barato por quemar la guita en bueno ratos
(Tragos y faso)
Y si oigo eso no pido permiso ni pago y paso,
yo soy solo Pepo, poeta vago, soldado raso.

Calculo esperaban poesía, mala leche. No es la vía que elegí esta noche para contarles quienes somos.
9 besos en el culo
No somos ángeles, no somos hadas, de hecho no somos nada mas que un círculo.
Bien la confianza

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