Dear Mama

When I was young me and my mama had beef
Six weeks old kicked out on the streets
Though back at the time, I never thought I'd see her face
Ain't a doggie alive that could take my mama's place
Suspended from school; and scared to go home, I was a fool
with the big hounds, breakin all the rules
I shed tears with my baby sister
Over the years we was poorer than the other little pups
And even though we had different daddies, the same drama
When things went wrong we'd blame mama
I reminice on the stress I caused, it was hell
Huggin on my mama from a pound cell
And who'd think in elementary?
Heeey! I see the penitentiary, one day
And runnin from the dog catcher, that's right
Mama catch me, put a whoopin to my backside
And even as a biscuit fiend, mama
You always was a black queen, mama
I finally understand
for a woman it ain't easy tryin to raise a man
You always was committed
A poor single mother on welfare, tell me how ya did it
There's no way I can pay you back
But the plan is to show you that I understand

You are appreciated

Lady... Don't cha know we love ya?
Sweet lady
Dear mama
Place no one above ya, sweet lady
You are appreciated
Don't cha know we love ya?

This is in honor of my mama, Queeny. She was a tough Schip and I miss her. Two years ago, she was carrying me in her tummy, and because of her, I'm able to write this stuff for you today. East New Mexico is a hard place to raise some pups, yo. Ain't no duck walk. (Hell...there ain't even water in that part of the desert). I'm getting a little homesick because these New Englanders don't know how to show no love all the time. But that's ok. My birthday is coming up, mama! I miss you! In the meantime, I'll show these East Coast Elitists how I hold it down...

Dear mama don't cry, Your baby boy's doin' good
Tell the homies I'm in heaven and it ain't got hoods...

Colors...Colors...Colors

Some of Dad's friends came in from the old 'hood in Houston. Dork Jen (that's her name, kid, and I'm not lying) came into town with her main man, DJ Les-Dan-Zero, because their Queens apartment had no power. And no power meant no air. (I was like, hey, pay your bill, yo!)

So, I decided to let them keep me company while I work on my memoirs. I let them rug the tummy and all. To tell you the truth, I thought Dad's homies from the 'hood would be more thugish. Dork Jen here dances flamenco and salsa. Then I found out she was really from Denver! I told her...don't worry, sistah. I ain't gonna bite. We're all in the same gang.

I'll just walk like a giant police defiant
you'll say to stop but I'll say that I cant
my gangs my family its all that I have
I'm a star, on the walls is my autograph

PS
Birthday is coming up. Aug. 9th. Don't forget!

Who's the man with the Master Plan?

Tupac is thinkin' of a Master Plan...

That's it man. I'm going to South Africa for the World Cup in 2010. I'm already going through World Cup withdrawal, yo. A dog has to get his soccer on. I can't believe Italy just pulled it off this year. Dad started routing for the Italians after Mexico, Brazil and all the other Latin America countries got knocked off. (His lady is Italian, so he has to keep it real, you know what I'm saying?) I already told him that we're going to South Africa in 2010, no joke. I need to go see my homeboy Nelson Mandela and chill out in the Cape.

Dad just got back from New Mexico with his lady and he was telling me all about his travels. Meanwhile, I had to stay at a dog sitters because no one in Boston gives me love here like they do in Albuquerque. The dog sitter is cool and all, though. She took me camping and I got to mack on some beagles in the woods. Only they know what went down in the leaves, yo. Anyway, I've decided I'm not staying here when Dad goes to South Africa. No way, yo. I'm going back the the Motherland.

ps
Don't forget. My birthday is coming up. Aug. 9. I expect some grade-A rawhide from the Tupac da Dogg lovers of the world...

hey lover, hey lover, this is more than a crush
Lover, hey lover, this is more than a crush
hey lover, hey lover, this is more than a crush

Feelin' on Your Duty

Happy 4th of July. Are you feeling independent? Dad and I are feeling independent. Tonight, we are going to the Chelsea Hill to see the fireworks. These Massachusetts peeps know how to hold it down with their Revolution stuff. Personally, I think it's time for a dog revolution. I can see myself running through the streets, saying, 'The kitties are coming! The kitties are coming!' (But I'd be using another word, of course.)

Anyway, today I'm going to celebrate all things American. You know, like hip hop, baseball, the Internet, chasing birds, doing my thang on statues, podcasting, watching the World Cup (I so hope Germany loses), macking on the (female dogs)...

If I see some (female dogs) tonight at the 4th of July celebration, here are my lines. Peace out.

Hey pretty mama how ya doin'

said I'm just in town for the weekend

lookin for a lil' trouble 2 get into

baby tell me what u drinkin and I got u

Everybody Get Your Schip On! Everybody, Everybody Get Your Schip On! What?

Every-day..iced..out
Doggie..play..lights out
M..period..Fresh..comma
Yo..wife..is my..baby mama

Everybody get your Schip on
Everybody, everybody got your Schip on, What?!

Hey check it out, yo. For all your Tupac Da Dogg lovers out there, you can now buy a necklace with my image (especially the ladies). Just put me on, go for a jog, and watch me bounce, bounce, bounce....

Wow. You can get anything on the Internet these days. Weather is getting better here in Mass. About time. Hopefully, Dad will take me to the doggie park so I can mack on some poodles. I already have my lines down:

You ain't got to look like a model for me to adore you
All you gotta do is love me and be loyal
Don't indulge in my past fo-get what happened before you
Cause there be some homies gonna hate you that never saw you
Come here, let my touch on you, I let you touch on me
Put my tongue on you you put your tongue on me
Let me ride on you and you can ride on me
We can do it all tonight
We can have a balla-night