I'ma Get Mines

[Hook x2 - K. Jayz] I’ma get mines, y’all niggas can get yours I’ma get mines, y’all niggas can get yours I’ma get mines, y’all niggas can get yours I’ma get mines, y’all niggas can get yours [Verse 1 - K. Jayz] I remember when I used to be a nobody At least I thought so, so I did not fuck with e’rybody But then all of a sudden I picked up a pen to write some lyrics Then started rapping I don’t even know how it happened A mystery But as I continued, I really noticed the society Ain’t nobody give a fuck about each other Individualism, everybody losing propriety But then again, who can really blame ya? You don’t know If you in trouble, who would save ya Who would come out the blue just to your rescue? That’s why we say, “I’ma do me, and you gon’ do you” Now, I don’t care for nobody but my fam If you ain’t in my circle, bitch, you ain’t in my plans I’ma grab hip hop by the hair, do her right Don’t worry about me, nigga, I’ma get mines [Hook] I’ma go ahead and pass it to Mr. Shakur [Verse 2 - 2Pac] Mind on my money, money on my mind Finger on the trigger, nigga, hand on my nine Smoking blunts a skunk, making hoes of punks And only underground funk pumping outta my trunk Live the life of a hustler: high till 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 motherfuckers I live the thug life, baby, I'm hopeless Choking off indo trying 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 hustling Pour out some liqour for my niggas, 2Pac is still struggling! My nigga Breed knew the time Whether it's ryhme or crime, nigga, I gotta get mine [Interlude - MC Breed & 2Pac] I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours I gotta get mine, you gotta get yours X2 I gotta get mine Get yours [Verse 3 - MC Breed] Now, tell me Can you measure the amount of applause I keep gettin? Everytime 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 niggas 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 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 everday 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 [Interlude]