The Realist Killaz

Yo Redd Spyder
Is that 50 Cent/Pac joint ready?
Let me know

[2Pac - from ‘Smile’]
There’s gon’ be some stuff
You gon’ see
That’s gon’ make it hard 
To smile in the future

[50 Cent (& 2Pac)]
Yeah nigga!
Ha ha
Let’s go, nigga
This is what it is
Tupac cut his head bald
Then you wanna cut yo’ head bald
(You pussy nigga!)
Tupac wear a bandana
You wan’ wear a bandana
[2Pac] What do we have here now?
Tupac put a cross on his back
You wanna put crosses on yo’ back
Nigga you ain’t Tupac
This Tupac!

Is it
Money or women 
To funny beginnings
Tragic endings
I can make a million 
And still not get enough of spending
And since my life is based on sinnin
I’m hellbound
Rather be buried than be worried
Livin held down
My game plan to be trained and
Military mind of a Thug Lord
Sittin in the cemetary
Caught, I’ve been lost since my adolescence
Callin to Jesus
Ballin as a youngster
Wonderin if he sees us
Young black male, crack sales 
Got me three strikes
Livin in jail, this is hell
Enemies die
Wonder when we all pass 
Is anybody listenin?
Got my, hands on my semi shotty
Everybody’s bitchin
Please God can you understand me
Bless my family
Guide us all
Before we fall into insanity
I make it a point
To make my peep bumpin warlike
Drop some shit
To have these stupid bitches jaws tight

[Hook] [50 Cent (& 2Pac)]
’Til Makaveli returns
It’s All Eyez On Me
(What do we have here now?)
And you can hate it or love it
But that’s what it’s gon’ be
You shoulda listened
I told you not to fuck with me
(What do we have here now?)
Now can you take the pressure
That’s what we gon’ see

[50 Cent]
Now since you’re cryin for mercy 
I promise
My success’ll be the death of you
Lo and behold you sold your soul
Nigga there’s nuttin left of you
Look in the mirror
Ask yourself who are you?
If you don’t know who you are
How could your dreams come true?
Motherfucker, I sat back and watched
You pretended to be ’Pac
You pretended to be hot
But you’re not 
I see it so clear
You can’t take the pressure
You pussy
I warned you not to push me
You see me and chills 
Run up your spine
God made men the same, boy
But your heart ain’t like mine
Press, they look at me like I’m a menace
I was playin with guns
While your momma had your punk ass playin tennis
I’m a nightmare
You see me when you dream
Wake up, turn on your TV 
And see my ass again
You cowardly hearted
You couldn’t make it on your own
Fuck The Source
I’m on cover of Rolling Stone
(You pussy!)