Chords for Mr. Capone-E "Miss Ya Pac" RIP TUPAC SHAKUR

_ _ _ [Eb] Yeah, sitting here thinking about the [B] days.
Mr.
Kupong, [Eb] you miss your Pac now.
Miss your [Ebm] Pac, dedicated.
R.I..P. [Db] Piled up a dead soldier, all eyes on me. I [B] remember listening to Shorty, wanna be a thug. I [Db] was just a little youngster trying to catch a bug. [Ebm] Dear Mama, I know it's hard where we stay. But [Db] Pac said it's okay to live and die in L.A. [B] Keep your head up fast. Life goes on, so [Eb] many tears, but I gotta stay strong. I [Ebm] did a month, so I started banging. [Eb] West side when we rise, South side is smashing. [B] California love, so we rep that South [Eb] about that time. Thug life just came out, [Ebm] buried me a G. From a cradle to the grave, [Eb] doing flows more than blacks. Even the essays, [B] let's say you were still around. We [Db] would've shared the same bitches, cause I get around. [Ebm] Straight ballin', now pouring little liquor. They [Eb] killed my little homie, so I grab the fucking trigger. [B] Miss ya, lost souls, outlaws. [Eb] I'm bitches up on riders, yeah, fuck y'all. [Ebm] Phone call, they won't see me trapped. [Db] It's me against the world, yeah. I throw back, [B] lay back on my mama as I listen to the classics. [Db] Are you still down? Lighting up the matches. [Ebm] Pumping on salons, sick ass track. [Eb] Can't forget about that track. We're badass, [B] initiated, we pass. Dreams we smash, [Eb] young noble rascals. Get on fast, [Ebm] no need to ask about Snoop or Dre. [Eb] America most wanted, Biggie, New York, L.A. [B] Gunplay now, they testing my cold [Eb] shit. Just got personal on the West Coast. [Ebm] Cholos, lolos, aging the whites. [Eb] Lacks, browns, united we ride. [B] Broke Tupac, Hail Mary, can you feel [Eb] me? That's when I got out. Brenda got a baby, [Ebm] shit got crazy. With death row, [Eb] while I'm out on the streets. Pimping them hoes, [B] every city we go. Piping them tricks, [Db] now wonder why they caught you a bitch, [Ebm] switch house parties. We were trash, you [Eb] didn't give a fuck. We was like an ug [B] mashin', laughing and joking. G-Ryde was stolen, [Db] can't see me. Picking and rolling, [Ebm] only God can judge me. It wasn't our fault, [Db] letter to the president. There's no more jobs, [B] Illuminati lost. Still I ride, [Db] writing war stories. Trying to survive, [Ebm] FBI lies, LAPD scandal. [Db] Your music got us through the day, living like vandals. [B] No more pain, better days. [Db] Staring through my rear view like it was yesterday. [Ebm] Passing away, got us all in a rush. It [Eb] was like my homie got took it from us. [B] Thank God we trust, now I start to rap. [Db] Wish we did a collab or it would be everlasting. [Ebm] Things happen to shit, call me up. He [Db] said you're the next pop, but I wouldn't budge. [B] Told me to stop, but I don't trust that fuck. [Eb] I wouldn't do you like that, death row. [Ebm] _ Rest in peace, [Eb] to the memory of Tupac [B] Shakur. That's right, [Eb] mixtape coming soon, Los Angeles time. [Ebm] Mr. Capone, the one and [Eb] only. Oh. _ _ [B] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [A] _ _ _
_ _ _ Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch. Raise, raise, raise him up, raise [Ab] him up, raise him up. [F] _ Too short, too short, [A] raise your glasses, say cheers, [Db] bitch. What's up Mr. Capone, be a player for life. I [Ab] want some rags and riches. [Db] Be a player for life. I only fuck top notch [A] bitches. Be a player for life. I want some rags and riches. [Db] Be a player for life. Toast to getting [A] money. Raise it [Ab] up, raise it up. It's that mula gang. Bottle the model, we're doing a