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"You could get the finger.. the middle!" {*1} 
"Come and get some!" {*2} 

[2Pac] 
Ahh yeah, they love to point the finger 
{*1} {*2} 

Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch 
{*1} {*2} Niggaz love to point the finga 
Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch 
{*1} {*2} 

[2Pac] 
I thought I hit rock bottom, they ban my album, point the finga 
I guess nobody loves a real nigga-slash-rap singer 
I thought I'd bring a little truth to the young troops 
I brought proof that the niggaz need guns too 
It's not to be a racist, but let's face this: 
wouldn't you if we could trade places? 
I got lynched by some crooked cops, and to this day 
them same motherfuckers on the beat gettin major paid 
But when I get my check they takin tax out 
So, we payin for these pigs to knock the blacks out 
Ain't that a bitch, some officers are gettin rich 
Whoopin on thugs and robbin drug dealers for they shit 
As far as jealousy, bein a celebrity 
No matter who committed the crime, they all yell at me 
And the media is greedier than most 
You could sell em your soul or they'll be on ya til a niggaz ghost 
And everyday I read the paper there's another lie 
They show my picture for the crimes of another guy 
Now how's that for the life of a big shot 
A dead cop, a law suit, a little kid shot 
I play them nuttin ass marks in the park 
for tryin to earn they stripes in the dark 
Just cause I come there, don't mean I from there, peep: 
only jealous motherfuckers beef, and point the finga 

Chorus: repeat 4X 

Boom boom boom on your black ass, bitch 
{*1} {*2} 

[2Pac] 
As I run up on em madman, a nutcase with a screw loose 
A zoot troupe full of foolies with toolies 
Niggaz run to me don't come to me with beef 
Take your jewels and your jeep, boom boom! Let that ass sleep 
It's gettin hectic, niggaz run, quick 
Buckshots are the payback for dumb shit 
All you niggaz on the block tryin to test me 
Best wear a vest or get open like, sesame 
I'll run up on you mad deep; while you're tryin to sleep 
I'm steady pumpin bullets in your sheets 
Wake up, motherfucker, don't stutter 
Point blank by a nigga from the gutter, yeah! 
Gimme mine, gimme mine, gimme, mine 
Ban my rhymes, now I'm back to bustin, nines 
And bustaz can't get none, hell no 
A quick flurry and he's buried with a swelled jaw 
I came up from the amateurs to pro hits 
at 5-0, so you know I take no shit 
And everybody wants to kill a bringer 
of bad news, so they choose, to point the finga 

Chorus 

[2Pac] 
One two three, peace to the real G's 
Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me 
I bring skills and I build, kill at will 
Smoke sess til I'm ill, still feel me? 
I say one two three, peace to the real G's 
Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me 
Pick it up, pick it up, give it up 
Best to duck or get fucked for your bucks 
Scream one two three, peace to the real G's 
Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me 
I can't give up, it's a black thang 
And I ain't goin back to the crack game 
(You can do it son; be a man and stand up or run) 
Bitches, let em point the finga 
(You can do it son; be a man and stand up or run) 
Snitches, let em point the finga 
Yo, one two three, peace to the real G's 
Still me, til these motherfuckers kill me 
I guess nobody loves a rap singer 
That's why these motherfuckers.. (hahaha!) point the finga 

Chorus 

Chorus 

Chorus 3/4

Видео-клип к песне Point the Finga

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