Lyrics:

Tupac Talking]
They cuttin' off welfare
Think they crime is risin' now
You got whites killin' blacks
Cops killin' blacks
And blacks killin' blacks
Shit just gonna get worse
They just gonna become souljas
Straight souljas

Chorus

All you wanted to be<b> </b>a soulja<b> </b>a soulja
All you wanted to be<b> </b>a soulja<b> </b>like me
All you wanted to be<b> </b>a soulja<b> </b>a soulja
All you wanted to be<b> </b>a soulja<b> </b>like me

All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja
All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja
All you wanted to be, a soulja, a soulja
All you wanted to be, a soulja, like me

Crack done took apart of our family tree
My Momma's on the shit, my Daddy's splittin', Mom's steady blamin' me
Is it my fault, just cause I'm a Young Black Male?
Cop sweat me as if my destiny is makin' crack sells
Only 15 and got problems
Cops on my tail, so I bail ‘til I dodge ‘em
They finally pull me over and I laugh
Remember Rodney King and I blast on his punk ass
Now I got a murder case
You speak a' Heaven, punk? I never heard of the place
What is it to come up fast, got a Uzi and a black mask
Drop the fuckin' task, now who's the jack ass?
Keep my shit cocked, cause the cops got a glock too
What the fuck would you do,
Drop them or let ‘em drop you?
I chose droppin' the cop
I got me a glock, and a glock for the niggas on my block
4 of ‘em tried to stab me, I moved out
Sold a pound a weed, made G's, bought a new house
I'm only 17, I'm the new kid
I got me a crew, bought'em jewels, and a Uzi
But all good things don't last
Task came fast, and busted my black ass
Coolin' in the pen, where the goods kept
Now my little brother wants to follow in my footsteps
A soulja

Chorus

Buck, buck, niggas get fucked, don't step to this
Quiet has kept them blessed, on a quest with a death wish
Tell ‘em they come and test, and the rest, nigga gets hectic
Here's the anorexic, I'm making it to an exit
Walkin' through the streets on the black tip
Packed with several gats, 'cause I'm also payin' back shit
Niggas don't wanna try me, brother you'll get shot down
Now I'm kickin' the block, cause my bigger brother's locked down
I'm hot now, so many punk police have got shot down
Other coppers see me on the block, and they jock now
That's what I call a “kingpin”
Send my brother what he needs is some weed up to season
Tell him just be ready set, pack your shit up quick
And when I hit, be prepared to jet
Niggas from the block on the boat now
Every single one got a gun, that'll smoke pow
These punks about to get hit by the best
I'm wearin' double-vest, so aim at my fuckin' chest
I'll be makin' straight dome calls
Touch the button on the wall, you'll be pickin' up your own balls
I can still hear my mother shout: 'hit the pig nigga,
break your bigga brother out'
I got a message for the warden:
I'm commin' for your ass, as fast as Flash Gordon
We get surrounded in the mess hall, yes ya'll
A crazy motherfucker makin' death calls
Just bring me my brother and we leavin'
For every minute you stall, one of ya'll bleedin'
They brought my brother in a jiffy
I took a cop, just in case things got tricky
And just as we was walkin' out (bang), I caught a bullet in the head
The screams never left my mouth
My brother caught a bullet too
I think he gon' pull through (yeah, he'll be all right), he deserved to
The fast life ain't everything they told ya
Never get much older, followin' the tracks of a soulja

Chorus

Straight soulja, 1993, all of it