I Feel Like Pac / I Feel Like Biggie (Feat. Rick Ross, Meek Mill, T.I. & Swizz Beatz)

I've been waiting for a long time (how long)
Real damn long time (how long)
I've been waiting for a long time (how ya feel)
Man.

I feel like Pac, I feel like Biggie
I'm feeling like these hating niggas waiting to get me
I'm losing my sleep, I'm losing my mind2
You know I go hard when it comes to mine
I feel like Pac, Biggie, Pac, Biggie

Sucka walk up on me, talking like he know me
Ain't no codefendant do my dirt all by my lonely
Down south nigga, talking Jam Pony
Rest in Peace to Uncle Al, he showed me my first Rollie
Bitches want to know me, haters want to show me
But I'm just so vicious Double M worth eighty tickets
Cop just pulled me over, caught up in this thing
Take my case to trial, my juror Paula Deen5
I know they hate a nigga but he's such a major nigga
Give Chelsea Clinton the .44 when C.I.A. was with us
305 the realest, Ricky Ross the richest
Belaire on my table, I talk it then I live it

Ay yo, don't be afraid to be great motherfuckers, let's go

All you starve and I eat fast, Mulsanne when I creep past
Blacked out, I max out, with the same watch on Meech hand
We killing niggas no repents, my momma got like three Jags
You talkin' bout you a baller, nigga we really gettin' that street cash
Say old money, new work, smell the 'caine on my new shirt
My OG said strap up and don't lay your head where you do dirt2
And my momma said do school work, I was making that tool work
And niggas wanted me dead with a whole all in my head
Man they hit Big in the passenger, hit Pac in the passenger
So I'm riding round with this Mac on me, and a bunch of shooters in back of us
Roll up, you a dead man, headshots when we clap at ya3
We sendin niggas to the motherland, and I ain't talkin' bout Africa

Feel like it's me against the world, bury me a G
My middle finger to the world, I'm gon' forever be a G3
Pussy nigga want a witness, stay armed, no Biggie
When we get busy, no alarms, just semis
We pour out a little liquor, thug life, straight balling3
We cradle to the grave, ride when my homie call
Give a damn if it mean life or death, what's beef?
When somebody gotta die, we gon' march to the street
They said Brenda had a baby but she left it in the alley
One shot that playa hater now we going back to Cali5
Hypnotize niggas, I got a story to tell
My ambitions as a rider got me "ready to die5
And when we ride on no more pain, we go hard as shit
Why you complaining and you wonder why we call you bitch
It's an every day struggle nigga, me and my bitch
It's unbelievable suicidal thoughts you would get
Said fuck me warning and the gun don't blast
Give me the loot, sorry nigga, give me one more chance
You know this shit don't stop, keep these suckers under pressure
Hollerin' only God can judge me shawty, I ain't mad at ya
Got my mind made up, you nigga "can't see me"
A paid thug nigga, that's why shorty wanna be me
See a kid around around in your town kick in your door
I feel like Pac and Biggie, love the dough more than you know

Ay yo, how you gon' compare yourself to greatness
If you ain't ready to be great, man?
Ain't no more to it