[Intro: 2Pac]
Guess who's back
Guess who's back muthafucka, big ballin' ass muthafuckin' Breed
Givin' you what ya need, yeah, smokin' a gang of weed
Hit them fools, n***a

[Verse 1: MC Breed]
Come one, come all
N***as get the beat down
Retreat, creep or feel the heat of the Breed sound
Collect facts, then attack like I'm s'pposed to
Ya boy's goin' left on n***as and them hoes too
It's me, that n***a who ain't never got caught
My mic is wounded, I'ma test it with a touch of salt
Keep a book of the mark ass n***as I broke
'Cause big Breed, can do ya while I'm smokin' my dope, and tryin' cope
Catch up as this shit gets mental
This chronic got me workin' my brain, I need a pencil
So I can shake and change the style
But in the meanwhile, mainenterain the crowd
Make moves to improve, so I can build a bigger rep
The trigger finger strapped, I wanna see another n***a step
I play the cards, lost by your dingy Mista Gilligan
The mighty mad writer's straight-up comin' real again

[Interlude: 2Pac]
Buck buck muthafucka
Right at your muthafuckin' ass
This shit too strong for a muthafuckin' vest
So watch your chest and your dome
Leave Breed the fuck alone
We sendin' n***as to the fuckin' cemetery
[Verse 2: Breed]
They got me thinkin', sittin' in the hot spot
I'm straight up havin' hard times wanting me a drop-top
And a fat knot, and I ain't tryin' to hear that 5-0 shit
I'm black, and I was born with a survival kit, uh
Ain't shit but spit, in the beer that I'm drinkin'
I gotta get paid, I gotta get paid, and that's what a n***a be thinkin'
You sleep hoes, I'm puttin' a peephole in your forehead
Run 'til your toes is numb, go test your broke head
Breed's got n***as at your back once again punk
Told you ain't no future in that shit, but you still front
When will they realize, I got the feel again
The mighty mad writer's comin' real again

[Interlude: 2Pac]
Buck buck, biiinnng
That's the motherfuckin' sound as we buckin' mothafuckas down
Yea n***a, run but you can't outrace this motherfuckin' bullet
Breed, pull it, they can't fade you boy

[Verse 3: Breed]
Once mo', toe to toe? I don't think so
Bird sales, and knockin' n***as out like Riddick Bowe
You ain't the play, you know the play so don't say shit
Get 'em up and find your ass gettin' up off the pavement
Wavin' the shit, beggin' n***as to just straight quit
But fuck that, a hard head can get a n***as ass kicked
I ain't lettin' up for none
Son, huh? I'm comin' real again
[Interlude: 2Pac]
Yeah, motherfucka how you wanna play this shit?
We can go toe to toe, Glock for Glock, block for block
Homie to muthafuckin' homie
But you muthafuckas gonna feel this n***a this time
'Cause we ain't comin' back with that old bullshit
There's too many muthafuckin' dead n***as for me to be takin' this here bullshit
That's why there's muthafuckas in the pen' now, n***a
So pull or quit that bullshit, 'cause I don't wanna hear that muthafuckin' crap
Comin' real again n***a, thought I told you muthafuckas, I thought you knew
It's the muthafuckin' real shit, muthafucka
Hundred percent authentic
Type of shit you fuckin' get chronic'd out to, you know what I'm sayin'?
So do me one of them muthafuckin' favors, and light another fuckin' blunt
You know what I'm sayin'? A blunt muthafucka
Philly style, you know what I'm sayin'? Chronic n***a!
I'm talkin' 'bout laid out, played out, phat fuckin' funk
Yeah, this that type shit we kickin' in the 9 tre muthafucka
So all you muthafuckin' big ballin' ass gangstas
You put your muthafuckin' hand on yo' gat
And if the police roll up and say turn it down, you burn it down muthafucka
'Cause we comin' real again, 19 n***a 3, boy real again
We grabbin' steel again, 'cause we comin' real again
We turn the 90's to the 60's muthafucka
That's how we rollin'