Hit Em Up
Well, come on, come on, take money
Come on, come on, take money
Come on, come on, wa**up n****?
First off, f*** your b**** and the click you claim
West side when we ride, come equipped with game
You claim to be a playa but, I f***ed your wife
We bust on bad boys, n****s f*** for life
Plus, Puffy trying to see me weak, hearts I rip
Biggie smalls and junior mafia, some mark a** b****es
We keep on coming while we running for ya jewels
Steady gunning keep on busting at them fools
You know the rules, Little Caesar go ask you homie how I'll leave ya
Cut your young a** up, see ya in pieces, now be deceased
Little Kim, don't f*** with real a** G's
Quick to snatch your ugly a** off the streets, so f*** peace
I'll let them n****s know it's on for life
Don't let the west side ride the night
Bad boys murdered on wax and kill
F*** with me and get your caps peeled
You know what you see
Grab your glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
N****, I hit 'em up
?
Get out the way yo, get out the way, yo
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little move packs the mac and let me hit 'em in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right for setting up traps
Little accident murderers and I ain't never heard of ya
Poise less gats attack when I'm serving ya
Spank the shank, your whole style when I gank
Guard your rank, 'cause, I'ma slam your a** in a pang
Puffy weaker than a f***ing block, I'm running through n****
And I'm smoking junior mafia in front of ya n****
With the ready power tucked in my guess
Under my Eddie Bauer, tour clout petty sour
I push packages every hour, I hit 'em up
?
Call the cops when you see 2Pac
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
N****, I hit 'em up
Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel
This ain't no freestyle battle, all you n****s getting killed
With your mouths open, trying to come up off of me
You and the clouds hoping smoking dope
It's like a Shermine, n****s think they learned to fly
But they burn motherf***er you deserve to die
Talking about you getting money, but it's funny to me
All you n****s living bummy, while you f***ing with me
I'm a self made millionaire thug, living out of prison, pistols in the air
Biggie, remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch
And beg the b**** to let you sleep in the house
Now, it's all about Versace, you copied my style
Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled
Now, I'm back to set the record straight with my AK
I'm still the thug that you love to hate, motherf***er, I'll hit 'em up
I'm from New Jers, where plenty of murder occurs
No points to come, we bring drama to all you herds
Now go check the scenario, Little Ceas'
I'll bring you fake G's to ya knees coping pleas with these
Little Kim is ya, choked up or doped up
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up
What the f***? Is you stupid? Take money
Crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click looting, shooting, and polluting your block
With fifteen shot, c***ed glock to your knot
Outlaw mafia click moving up another notch
And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped
And all your fake a** East Coast props, brainstormed and locked
You's a be writer, Pac style taker
I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothing s*** but a faker
So fill the alazhay with a chaser
'Bout to get murdered for the paper
E D I, I mean post the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with little Ceas' in a choke
Toting smoke, we ain't no motherf***ing joke
Thug life, n****s better be known, be approaching
In the wide open, gun smoking, no need for hoping
It's a battle lost, I got 'em crossed
As soon as the funk is bopping off, n****, I hit 'em up
?
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
N****, I hit 'em up
Autor(es): DENNIS LAMBERT, TUPAC AMARU SHAKUR, YAFEU FULA, JOHNNY LEE JACKSON, MALCOLM GREENIDGE, BRUCE WASHINGTON, FRANNIE GOLDE, DUANE S. HITCHINGS
