เนื้อเพลง Fake Ass B*tches - 2Pac

[little kid] Tell me about these Fake Ass B*tches

[2Pac]
Look here little n*gga
Most of these n*ggaz be b*tches too
but you'll never hear that side of the story
So uhh, we finna do this sh*t like this

It's like I tell my n*ggaz, keep your eyes on these b*tches
They love to G a n*gga young dumb and gettin riches
What the f*ck you think a trick is n*gga
N*gga done stick and wet his d*ck
and then get tricked out all his riches by a -- B*TCH!
I'm here to school you to the rules of the game, it'll cost ya
Think you alla that just cause she let a n*gga toss her
It's like a motherf*ckin priveledge
So don't give up your conversation, give that b*tch your 7 digits
When she call ya, ask that tramp whassup
And if she is the type of n*gga hang up, worrrd up
And let that b*tch meditate to the dial tone
And call me when you're ready to bone, and it's on
A motherf*cking mack tonight
Stay that stay strapped cause my raps is tight
You f*ckin punks, I hate you snitches
Went against the grain and the game to be fake ass b*tches

(God, damn! You can't just hit them n*ggaz with that game
and expect them to accept it; girl your heard me it gets skanless.
But we gonna kick this sh*t like this here)

[Chorus: 2Pac]

I can't stand fake ass b*tches
Lyin ass n*ggaz and you punk ass snitches
[repeat 2X]

Time to show these bustas who's boss
Run up on a real motherf*cker and get tossed
The game is deep, and thicker than a motherf*ckin jimmy
Broke hoes runnin round yellin "Gimme!"
I can't stand it, hoes talkin bout they got a man
Sh*t all I wanted her to do is s*ck my D*CK
So how about hittin a motherf*cker on my pager
Busy now b*tch but you can give me the p*ssy later
Fly how I fade her, played her like a game of Sega
F*ckin with the player that done made her, huh
And I ain't sleepin caught you creepin for my money
Got the d*ck and now you get the pistol honey (b*tch)
So get the bozack, knockin hoes back, keep my dough stacked
So where the motherf*ckin hoes at?
Punk n*ggaz can't fade the mack, livin fat
Gettin paid to rap, it's like that, you motherf*ckin b*tches

Yeah, yeah that's my motto
She educated a whole bunch of you old raggedy-ass n*ggaz
So y'all take that sh*t back to y'all camp and uhh
you sleep on that there, it's like

[Chorus 2X]

Oh you too n*gga, don't think we ain't talkin bout your punk ass
You old fake ass n*gga
Standin there wearin all them Pendletons and khakis and all that
You soft as a motherf*ckin grape
Ain't this a motherf*ckin b*tch
I can see right through your flower ass
Some of these n*ggaz is b*tches too, man I tell ya
It's gonna be harder and harder to be a Thug in ninety-fo'
but we gonna do this sh*t
Y'all take this sh*t and you play this sh*t for every single
fake ass b*tch out there
And there's plenty of em
You probably got one sittin next to you right now
Bobbin his fake ass head to this, dope ass sh*t that he listenin to
Fake ass motherf*ckin b*tch, die in ninety-four