If I Die 2Nite

"A coward dies a thousand deaths, a soldier dies but once."

(Tonight's the night I get in some shit)

They say pussy and paper is poetry, power, and pistols.
Plottin' on murderin' motherfuckers before they get you.
Picturin' pitiful punk niggas coppin' pleas.
Puffin' weed as I position myself to clock G's.
My enemies scatter in suicidal situations.
Never the witness to wicked shit that they was facin'.
Pockets is packed with presidents, pursue your riches.
Evadin' the player hatin tricks, while hittin' switches
Bitches is bad-mouthin' 'cause ballin' mother fuckers is bold,
but trust me Holmes, the game should be sold.
I'm sick of pscyhotic society, somebody save me.
Addicted to drama, so even mama couldn't raise me.
Even the preacher and all my teachers couldn't reach me.
Out runnin' the streets and puffin' weed with my peeps.
I'm duckin' the cops, I hit the weed as I'm clutchin' my Glock.
Niggas is hot when I hit the block, what if I die tonite?

If I die 2nite, if I die 2nite, if I die 2nite.

Tonite's the night I get in some shit

Polishin' pistols, prepare for battle, pass the pump.
When I get to poppin', niggas is droppin' then they done.
Callin' the coroner, come collect the fuckin' corpse.
He got hit by a killer, preoccupied with bein' boss.
Revenge is the method, whenever steppin' keep a weapon close.
Adversaries will overdose over deadly notes.
Jealous niggas and broke bitches equal packed jails.
Hit the block and fill your pockets makin' crack sales.
Picture perfection pursuin' paper with a passion.
Visions of prison where all the pussies that I blasted.
Running with criminals, individuals with no remorse.
Try to stop me, my pistol posse using deadly force.
In my brain, all I can think about is fame.
The police know my name, a different game, ain't a thing changed.
I'm seeing cemetary photos of my peers,
conversatin' like they still here, if I die tonite.

If I die 2nite
Scared to die nigga, is ya, huh?
If I die 2nite
Never fear, never will I fear
If I die 2nite

2nite's the night I get in some shit

Pussy and paper is poetry, power, and pistols.
Plottin' on murderin' mother-fuckers before they get you.
Pray to the heavens, .357s to the sky.
And I hope I'm forgiven for thug livin' when I die.
I wonder if heaven's got a ghetto for thug niggas.
A stress free life, and a spot for drug dealers.
Pissin while practicin' how to pimp and be a player.
Overdose of a dick while drinking liquor when I lay her.
Pistol-whippin' any simps, for bein' petrified and lame.
Disrespecting the game, praying for punishment and pain.
Going insane, never die, I live eternal. Who shall I fear?
Don't shed a tear for me, nigga I ain't happy here.
I hope they bury me and send me to my rest.
Headlines reading "Murdered to Death", my last breath.
Take a look, picture a crook on his last stand.
Mother-fuckers don't understand, if I die tonite.

Nigga
If I die 2nite
No fear nigga, never worry.
If I die 2nite
Bury me a motherfuckin G, closed casket, fuck death.
If I die 2nite
You know

Kill, kill, kill.
Murder, murder, murder.
(Repeat and fade...)



Transcription 1995 by Jim Moore for Relativity Labs.
Written by Tupac Shakur, O.S. Harvey, Jr.
Copyright 1995 Interscope Records. All Rights Reserved.
Used without permisson.