(2Pac Talking)Hey who ya'll wanna fuck?K say he wanna fuck da bratYak said he wanna fuck somebody in the ?That nigga malc said he wanna fuck a leo, fuck itMutah said he wanna fuck Toni Braxton like a muthafucker hahahahaThats right nigga, get paidWho's that?Big MalcolmLiving like a GHollywoodup top with a 5th of HennesseyMutahsaid you love beating bitches liveK-DogOn the real gettin highLabel us the young thugsNiggas leave with much mailFuck hoes, fuck the law, and fuck jailYoung niggas never had a prayer to prevailThese killing fields can be hell(EDI [Big Malcolm])You see its uh complicatedWe grew up crime relatedFrom watchin them old folks smoke dopeYo it left us fadedBut on the kiling fieldsAs real as some niggas chillRealize and recognizinYou survive if you got bigger steelThen it was only a minute till our time was comingYo it was at the pointDon't have no run ins with those fucking younginsSee all the grown ups was dead or smoked upLeft with no game to soak upWe said fuck it and loc'd upBack to the street to escape itAnd to make beatsBut then there would be those who'd be rich if we didnt did itMurder but aint nobody feel usStill now its too lateWe aint nothing but bait for them killin fields[Chorus]Gotta keep my eyes on the stealCant be the victim but killing fieldsBut if I must, then I guess I just willSo ima bust, and kick dust when it isGotta keep my eyes on the stealCant be the victim but killing fieldsBut if I must, then I guess I just willSo ima bust, and kick dust when it is(Kastro [K-Dogg])I came through lookin up to whoThe high rollers with the gold chainsBut now as I look back and think about my wishesSeeing them same killin niggas turn to snitchesSo I stay high and suspiciousOh these fields can get real fuckin viciousI know you feel meIf you nigga how you can'tI'm gettin hot and lick a shot when im ampedAnd I aint got nothing on my mind but my richesBury me a G aint got time for no bitches (biatch)Thinkin they fuckin with a nigga on heelsBaby I must keep it realFor my niggas on these killin fields[Chorus](Yaki Kadafi [Young Hollywood])Now I can get through thisAint nothing to thisMatter of fact many if not plenty moreMuthafuckas be aliveIf they knew thisI keeps my shit wickedThrow your hands in the muthafuckin air as I kick itTryin to see a meal ticket before im gonePapa never got the chance to tell me it was onSo now I?m tornTrapped between the devils curse and a hearseLeft with nothing but childhood pictures in my grandmamas purseNow I strap up for the showdownGrab my four pound and some more roundsBet these thugs would love to slugSo get low downWords can't express how I feel for my steelOn these muthafuckin killin fields[Chorus]