2pac - Soon As I Come Home

[2Pac]

Dear baby, it's me again,
stuck inside this magazine,
tryin' to pay me debt, for all my sins...
see, these penatentary times be so heavy on my mind,
at times it's like I'm livin' just to die...
I'm livin' in hell, stuck in my jail cell,
stranded in the county jail,
watin' for my chance to post bail...
I wanna be paid in large macks,
and mash and flash stash,
I blast and wonder how long will I last...
my memories fade when I'm intoxicated, bump with you shady,
so I'm dumpin' on cowards crazy when ever faded...
I know I said it all before, but now I mean it,
these visions of me and you wantin', so crystal clear I seen it...
even tho' you mad at me,
you'll be glad to see the stragedy of makin' these chips come so easily...
I max out in the morning, baby life is good,
me and you against the whole hood...
soon as I come home...

[Chours]

[2Pac]

Sittin' here lookin' at pictures of me and you livin',
but now you out in the world, while I'm twisted in prison...
love letters come daily, words of affection, you send me money,
and new niggas beggin' for some sex...
stay wide open, keep yo eyes pilled,
and my advic eis keep it real or you can die squillin'...
plus I never had to worry 'bout a visit, cause you did daily,
guard tryin' to get ya number, you don't dare tell me...
tongue kissin', steady humpin',
tryin to touch up something,
before the C-O in the corner jump in, sprungin'...
late night reminicin', everybodys quiet,
I think somethings in the air, prepare for the riot...
it's padlocks in my socks, steel from the bed dreams, I touch 'em with thug love,
and then let they hate bring, the start of a war, but now I'm gone,
release me to the streets in the morning, it's on,
soon as I get home...

[Chours]

[Khadafi]

Think all my whole lifes been like a game of Shiela,
thinkin' big like they keep to me no feelings, my dreams like Nino...
brown the whole town be shook up,
and me and momma survived the pick up,
how many rocks I made to cook up...
narcotics got traffic, seen those niggas you blasted,
wantin' me in a casket, on a ground, kind of plastic...
yeah nigga I heard you, Lil' Moon gave the word,
you get parole on the 3rd, you sold love, we out here frontin'...
still here but all about nothing, but double oats is
what I'm wantin', and I'm tryin' to see something, that we ain't never had...
luxuery life, we talks livin', bad tricks of the trade,
shit that should've been took up now...
but learn, do the crook, lessons between me and you,
and once we rock this shit down it ain't a thing they can do...
meanwhile I stay watin' by the phone,
hopin' I'll get a call tellin' a nigga that you home...

[Chours]