Artist: 2Pac / Outlaws Album: Unreleased Song: All Out [2Pac] (Talking) Jay-Z come out and play, Mobb Deep come out and play.. Hey yo, Assassin give me one of them tracks so I can just ride on muthafuckas here.. Niggas talking 'bout we can't rap.. Niggas must not have never heard no muthafuckin' track off of Death Row nigga, shit, let's get it on, day like fuckin' night break.. (M.O.B).. Let's do it to these niggas... [Pac] Come hell or high water, down to slaughter opposes, just another lost soul stuck, callin' Jahovah... Outlaw til it's over, brand is my strap, back like a Cobra, I stay drunk, cause I'm a mad man, whenever sober... on a one man mission, my Ambitionz to hold up the rap game, while I pluck holes in niggas like donuts... and still down to die for all my soldiers, like hillbillies they don't feel me, so we fued, bring a war to the city... we need ya breath, death before dishonor, never let you swallow me, no apoligies, Your-Honor... a general in war, I'm the first to bomb, with a squad of trusted killers, quick to move shit, heavily armed... I'm similar to Saddam, some times I question Hussein, like Big franted for that last vein, stuck in the game... I hit the scene like sand storm, then transform, watch me, I take the figure of 30 niggas who all got me... While bitches wondering who shot me, load up, keep a grudge, shootin' slugs like Mummar Khadafi... murder my friends, build a new posse, we takin' shots of paparazzi, gone blind that nigga like rocky... you got a lot of nerve to play me, another Gay rapper, bustin' caps at Jay-Z, and still avoidin' capture... while yall caught up in the rapture still after me, I'm in Jamaica sippin' Dakarey, no doubt... we use to havin' nothin', we grabbin' something, and bustin', wanted to be the thug nigga, that my old man wasn't... I came to a fear of catchin' cases, litigation, niggas playa hatin', got me crooked in all 50 states... I'm screamin' Death Row, tho I'm on West Side, ain't no thang, we was raised off drive-bys, brought up to bang... we claim Mob, M.O.B of you be specific, we control all cash, from Atlantic-Pacific... and get this, I'm hard to kill, when I bill with this live spot, father, how the hell did I survive these five shots... live it up or give it up, and like yearments, late night, we hear 'em screamin', we going All Out... [Khadafi] Big money, clutch and bail, to murder pan post rushin', cat tilted to the side, on the leen, out to ride, bust it... Outlawz in force, serect to war, born abussive burnt, bury my burdles with my dead buddies when I use it... give a fuck about later, shots swarm to the equater, death to traders, shots bitin' through ya bones like Aligater... payin' my dues, lookin' for missalenous imfamous screws, old lady sing the blues, leavin' smoke on they shoes... [Edi Ameng] Now with my every wakin' homie, on a quest to be bailin'... yeah, position myself to prosper, stay prepared for whatever... but at times I slip slightly, shit I ain't afraid to addmit it, too call, stand over cane like too hard to live it... and I'm just a smiggin' past my teenage years, into adulthood, now I ride with G's, finally knowing myself good... and it felt good when I was younger, but playtimes over, "Edi here take this gun nigga"... [Kastro] I piss cold blood, shit hot liquor out my liver, smoke like a tail pipe, and ripe when I'm bitter... all my life I been considered a down right dirty nigga, from when daddy knocked momma twat, pop the last drop for the litter... tell me, give the world hell, plus in hell I give 'em mo', and bail out of jail, screamin' "fuck the po-po"... with a runs to take, that ain't enough, from a simple fuck, too multimillion dollar luck, busta free... [Napoleon] Well I think it's time to grab all pistols, wave them shits in the air, celebrate Outlaw livin', nigga I wouldn't be here... to you death is losing, to me the shits a family reunion... and to hell with a B.G, never call it, cause it wouldn't feed me... my walet, being seat as the day I got started... 12 shots in my pocket, let my niggas depart it... it's a shame that these snake vochers niggas cold-hearted, in a dirty world, where only God know yo death, you could call it... [Young Noble] We thugged out, low cut, Outlaw rush, a royal flush... bomb first, kickin' dust, out in Cali, but I ain't in to much... makin' pay, stick and stay, and then to C-A, them cowards tucked away, and turn feminene like Mi'chelle... niggas change they whole style when the Outlawz coming, a million miles, and thuggin'... yall know, I keep 'em bustin'... rugged rapture, capture this fuckin' style that I'm after, bringin' terminal possestion, hit you up when I pass you... [2Pac] [Chours] (4 times) Us, the first to bust.. Who do we trust?.. Out for Mobb Deep and Jay-Z, dead in the dust.. I told you punks that I was after Biggie, you got involved, now I'm 'bout to bust on all yall... We going All Out... [2Pac] (talking) [Westside.]. Jay-Z, ha ha nigga you feel me [Outlaw, Death Row, Makaveli Tha Don] you punk muthafucka, you big dick suckin' lips.. you trick ass nigga [Outlaw, the criminal desparados].. How you gonna be the one, soft one year, then tough ass mobb connection.. [die, die slow] nigga my memory ain't bad, you about to get it.. Bang, you dead!! Ha ha.. Mobb Deep, you little young ass juvinile delenquents, Bang, Bang, you dead!! Biggie, Bang, you dead!! Puffy, Bang, you dead!! You out the game. No need to explain, get out of here.. My label, the notorious untouchable, Death Row!!