Hold On Be Strong Vs. Big Poppa (Matoma Remix) - 2Pac

Hold on

Ay do this thug style main thug style

When this whole beat drop we

Just gon' run it to 'em bet

It's all good uhh

I never had much ran with a bad bunch

Little skinny kid sneakin

W**d in my bag lunch

And all through Junior

High we was just gettin by

And drivebys robbed my

Homies of their young lives

I never did cry and even though I had

Pain in my heart I was

Hopeless from the start

They couldn't tell me nothin

They all tried to help me

The marijuana had my mind

Gone it wasn't healthy

I travelled places caught

Cases what a ill year

I felt the pain and the

Rain but I'm still here

Never did like the police

Let the whole world know

Now I gets no peace

'Cause they chasin me down

And facin me now what do I do

These thangs that a thug goes through

And still I rise so keep ya head

Up and make ya mind strong

It's a struggle every day

But you gotta hold on

To all the ladies in the

Place with style and grace

Allow me to lace these

Lyrical duches in your bushes

Who rock grooves and make

Moves with all the mommies

The back of the club sippin

Moet is where you'll find me

The back of the club mackin

Hoes my crew's behind me

Mad question askin blunt

Passin music blastin

But I just can't quit

Because one of these honies

Biggie gots ta creep with

Sleep with keep the ep a secret why not

Why blow up my spot

'Cause we both got hot

Now check it I got more Mack

Than Craig and in the bed

Believe me sweety I got

Enough to feed the needy

No need to be greedy I got

Mad friends with Benz's

C-notes by the layers

True ****in players

Jump in the Rover and come over

Tell your friends jump in the GS3

I got the chronic by the tree

Never a good day 'cause in my hood they

Let they AK's pump strays

Where the kids play

And every Halloween check

Out the murder scene

Can't help but duplicate the

Violence seen on the screen

My homies dyin 'fore they

Get to see they birthdays

These is the worst days

Sometimes it hurts to pray

And even God turned his

Back on the ghetto youth

I know that ain't the truth

Sometimes I look for proof

I wonder if heaven got a

Ghetto and if it does

Does it matter if you blood or you 'cuz

Remember how it was the picnics

And the parties in the projects

Small time drinkin gettin

High with them armies

Just another knucklehead

Kid from the gutter

I'm dealin with the madness

Raised by a single mother

I'm tryin to tell you when it's on

You gotta keep your head to the sky

And be strong most of all hold on

Hold on

Yeah it's gonna be alright

Don't trip baby

It'll get better

Ay do this thug style main thug style

When this whole beat drop we

Just gon' run it to 'em bet

It's all good