Hold On Be Strong (Matoma Remix)

作词 : 2Pac

Hold on... [lighter flicks up]

Yeah it's gonna be alright, don't trip baby

It'll get better...

Ay do this Thug style main, Thug style

When this whole beat drop we just gon' run it to em bet

It's all good, uhh

I never had much, ran with a bad bunch

Little skinny kid sneakin shit in my bag lunch

And all through Junior High, we was just gettin by

And drivebys robbed my homies of their young lives

I never did cry, and even though I had

pain in my heart, I was hopeless from the start

They couldn't tell me nothin, they all tried to help to help me

The mother****ers had my mind gone it wasn't healthy

I travelled places, caught cases, what a ill year

I felt the pain and the rain but I'm still here

Never did like the police, let the whole world know

Now I gets no peace, cause they chasin me down

And facin me now, what do I do?

These thangs that a Thug goes through

And still I rise so keep ya head up, and make ya mind strong

It's a struggle every day but you gotta hold on

To all the ladies in the place with style and grace

Allow me to lace these lyrical duches in your bushes

Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies?

The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me

The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me

Mad question askin, blunt passin, music blastin

But I just can't quit

Because one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with

Sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not

Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot

Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed

Believe me sweety I got enough to feed the needy

No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's

C-notes by the layers, true nigga players

Jump in the Rover and come over

tell your friends jump in the GS3, I got the chronic by the tree

Never a good day, cause in my hood they

let they AK's pump strays where the kids play

And every Halloween, check out the murder scene

Can't help but duplicate the violence seen on the screen

My homies dyin 'fore they get to see they birthdays

These is the worst days, sometimes it hurts to pray

And even God turned his back on the ghetto youth

I know that ain't the truth, sometimes I look for proof

I wonder if heaven got a ghetto, and if it does

Does it matter if you blood or you cuz

Remember how it was, the picnics and the parties in the projects

Small time drinkin gettin high with them armies

Just another knucklehead kid from the gutter

I'm dealin with the madness, raised by a single mother

I'm tryin to tell you when it's on

You gotta keep your head to the sky and be strong, most of all