[Intro: 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

[Chorus: 2Pac & MC Breed]
I gotta get mine (gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (better get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (better get yours)
I gotta get mine (gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you better get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
(Yo Breed, get yours)

[Verse 1: MC Breed, (2Pac)]
Ayo I'm smooth as I wanna be, step to me you's a goner, G
(Oh, that's the way it is?)
Hell yeah and that's the way it's gonna be
(Why?) Puffin' up on tha dank and drinkin' mad brew
Takin' names and after that I'm kickin ass too
Breed, time to flow (Can I get a rhyme to go?)
Hell yeah, Pac, and I'll sit back, straight up design it slow
They hate to see a young brotha (Come up)
Another punk, (Run up) and have to get his (Gun up)
And um, I ain't takin no shots
Like a Newport fort, exploitin the floor like Jordan
Explodin on the hoop court
And I don't wanna be, I-don't-wanna-be nuttin like Mike
Cause even Michael's like been a itsy bitsy what (triflin')
And when you in the spotlight, you get um... jocked right?
But your knot's not tight
Buckin' anybody trying to take mine
When will they realize? I gotta get mine
[Chorus: 2Pac & MC Breed]
I gotta get mine (gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (better get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (better get yours)
I gotta get mine (gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you better get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine
(Yo Pac, get yours)

[Verse 2: 2Pac]
I keep my mind on my money, money on my mind
Finger on the trigger, hand on my 9
Smokin' blunts and skunk, puttin' holes in punks
And only underground funk pumpin' outta my trunk
Live the life of a hustler, high 'till I die
Givin' them vapors, makin' papers, miss me with lies
Picture me livin' out my life as a busta
I'd rather pop off a shot from my Glock and blast all the suckas
I live the thug life, baby, I'm hopeless
Chokin' off indo, tryin' to keep my focus
Don't let the punk cowards worry me
Keep the fame, I'm true to the game 'til they bury me
God gave me game, so I'm hustlin'
Pour out some liqour for my homies, 2Pac is still strugglin'
My homie Breed knew the time
Whether it's rhyme or crime, sucka, I gotta get mine
[Chorus: 2Pac & MC Breed]
I gotta get mine (gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (better get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (better get yours)
I gotta get mine (gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you better get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (gotta get mine)
(Breed, get yours)

[Verse 3: MC Breed]
Can you measure the amount of applause I keep gettin'?
Everytime I pick up a mic and start spittin'
The sidewalks of New York will start bumpin'
Jumpin' around, with my homies in the pound
And I'm down to the fullest
See me break that ass off proper
Then I shock you, cause I got you in my pocket again
Them new jacks and you jacks
Who knew me and my n***as, when I used to run it way back when
I boasted, and roasted, and coasted to the pinnacle
Because of what I do with a pen
It's vernacular precision
Connect the two lines and it's division
Plus, when I add lutes and flutes
It's guaranteed to sell like prostitutes
I never had love for those who put it blunt
And want me in the back, trick, I'm in the front
Don't front, and really I don't need a reply
Pull yourself together as you pass me by
I'm on a whole another level, those is left
I told you before, well you can keep it to yourself and divide
So many people lied to have
Funny what a young brother do for math
I got fractions caught up in my everday actions
Point, equal to your real satisfaction
Buckin' anybody tryin' to take mine
When will they realize, I gotta get mine
[Chorus: 2Pac & MC Breed]
I gotta get mine (gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (better get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (better get yours)
I gotta get mine (gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you better get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
I gotta get mine (I gotta get mine)
You gotta get yours (you gotta get yours)
[*repeat to fade*]