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2pac

Genres: Hip-Hop

Hit Em Up Lyrics - 2pac

I ain't got no motherfuckin friends 

That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker 

(take money) West side!! 

Bad Boy killers 

 

(take money) You know who the realest is niggaz 

(take money) We bring it to you 

(take money) 

 

First off, fuck your bitch and the click you claim 

Westside when we ride come equipped with game 

You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife 

We bust on Bad Boy niggaz fucked for life 

Plus Puffy tryin ta see me weak hearts I rip 

Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark-ass bitches 

We keep on comin while we runnin for yo' jewels 

Steady gunnin, keep on bustin at them fools, you know the rules 

Lil' Ceaser, go ask ya homie how I leave ya 

Cut your young ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased 

Lil' Kim, don't fuck around with real G's 

Quick to snatch yo' ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace 

I let them niggaz know it's on for life 

So let the Westside ride tonight - hahahah 

Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed 

Fuck wit' me and get yo' caps peeled, you know ... see ... 

 

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Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac 

Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh 

Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish 

Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace 

 

NIGGA, I hit em' up... 

 

Check this out, you motherfuckers know what time it is 

I don't even know why I'm on this track 

Y'all niggaz ain't even on my level 

I'ma let my little homies ride on you 

 

bitch made-ass bad boy bitches -- deal with it!! 

 

Photos 

 

Get out the way yo, get out the way yo 

Biggie Smalls just got dropped 

Little Moo, pass the mac, and let me hit him in his back 

Frank White need to get spanked right, for settin traps 

Little accident murderers, and I ain't never heard-a ya 

Poisinous gats attack when I'm servin ya 

Spank ya shank ya whole style when I gank 

Guard your rank, cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint 

Puffy weaker than the fuckin block I'm runnin through nigga 

And I'm smokin Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you nigga 

With the ready power tuckin my Guess under my Eddie Bauer 

Ya clout petty sour, I get packages every hour to hit 'em up 

 

Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac 

Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh 

 

Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish 

Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace 

NIGGA, I hit em' up... 

 

Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel 

 

this ain't no freestyle battle, all you niggaz gettin killed 

with ya mouths open 

Tryin to come up offa me, you in the clouds hopin 

Smokin dope it's like a sherm high niggaz think they learned to fly 

But they burn motherfucker, you deserve to die 

Talkin bout you gettin money but it's funny to me 

All you niggaz livin bummy why you fuckin with me? 

I'm a self made millionare 

Thug Livin out a prison, pistols in the air, haha 

Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch 

and beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house, hah 

Now its all about Versacci, you copied my style 

Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled 

Now I'm bout to set the record straight, with my AK 

I'm still the thug that you love to hate 

Motherfucker, I hit 'em up 

 

I'm from N-E-W Jerz, where plenty murders occurs 

No points in common, we bringin drama to all you herbs 

Knuckle check the scenario, Lil' Cease 

I bring you fake G's to your knees, coppin pleas you Degenario 

Lil Kim, is you coked up, or doped up? 

Get ya lil' Jr. Whopper click smoked up, what the fuck 

is you STUPID?! I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn 

with my click lootin, shootin and pollutin ya block 

with 15 shots cock glock to your knot 

Outlaw mafia click movin up another notch 

And your box top spots get mopped and dropped 

and all your fake-ass East coast props brainstormed and locked 

 

Youse a, beat biter, a Pac style taker 

I'll tell you to ya face you ain't shit but a faker 

Softer than Alize with a chaser 

 

Bout to get murdered for the paper 

Edi Amin approach the scene of the caper, like a loc 

With Lil' Ceaser in a choke, huh totin smoke 

We ain't no motherfuckin joke Thug Life niggaz better be knowin 

We approchin, in the wide open, guns smokin 

No need for hopin it's a battle lost, I got 'em crossed 

As soon as the funk was poppin off, nigga I hit 'em up 

 

Now you tell me who won? I see them, they run 

Hehehehe, they don't wanna see us 

Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. click dressin up tryin to be us 

How the fuck they gon' be the mob when we always on our job 

We millionaires, killin ain't fair but somebody gotta do it 

Oh yeah, Mobb Deep, you wanna fuck with us? 

You little young-ass motherfuckers 

 

Don't one of you niggaz got sickle cell or somethin? 

You fuckin with me nigga you fuck around 

and have a seizure or a heart-attack 

You better back the fuck up, 'fore you get smacked the fuck up 

That's how we do it on our side 

Any of you niggaz from New York that wanna bring it bring it 

But we ain't singin, we bringin drama 

Fuck you and your motherfuckin mama 

We gon' kill all you motherfuckers 

Now when I came out I told you it was just about Biggie 

 

Then everybody had to open they mouth with a motherfuckin opinion 

Well this how we gon' do this 

Fuck Mobb Deep, Fuck Biggie, Fuck Bad Boy as a staff record label 

and as a motherfuckin crew 

And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy; then fuck you too 

Chino XL, fuck you too 

All you motherfuckers, fuck you too 

 

(take money) 

(take money) 

Alla y'all motherfuckers, fuck you die slow motherfucker 

My fo'-fo' make sure all y'all kids don't grow 

You motherfuckers can't be us or see us 

We the motherfuckin Thug Life ridahs Westside till we die! 

Out here in California nigga we warn ya 

We'll BOMB on you motherfuckers, we do OUR job 

You think you mob, nigga we the motherfuckin mob 

Ain't nuttin but killers and the real niggaz 

All you motherfuckers feel us 

Our shit's goin triple and four-quadruple 

(take money) 

 

You niggaz laugh cause our staff got, guns in they motherfuckers belts 

You know how it is when we drop records they felt 

You niggaz can't feel it, we the realest 

FUCK 'EM, we Bad Boy killin 

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