HIT EM UP FEATURING : OUTLAWZ
Intro: Tupac
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 the realest is niggaz
(take money) We bring it to you
(take money)
Verse One: Tupac
First off
fuck your bitch in the clit you claim
West side 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 Smallz and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark ass bitches
We keep on comin while we runnin for ya jewels
steady gunnin
keep on bustin at the fools
you know the rules
Little 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 tha street
so fuck peace
I let them niggas know it s on for life
So let the West side ride tonight hahahah
Bad Boy murdered on wax
and killed
Fuck wit me and get ya caps peeled
you know ... see ...
Chorus:
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...
Interlude: Tupac
Check this out
you muthafuckas know what time it is
I don t even know why I m on this track
ya ll nigguz ain t even on my level
I ma let my little homies ride on you
bitch made-ass bad boy bitches -- deal with it!!
Verse Two:
Get out the way yo
get out the way yo
Biggie Smallz 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 tracks
little accident murderer
and I ain t never heard-a ya
Poisinous gats attack when I m servin ya
Spank the shank ya whole style when I dank
Guard your rank
cause I ma slam you in the pavement
Puffy weaker that a fuckin rocka wanna do
nigga
and
I ll smoke ya junior mafia in front of you
nigga
With the ready power tuckin my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
ya clout
pretty sour I get packages every hour
and hit em up
Chorus
Verse Three: Tupac
Peep how we do it
keep it real
it s penitentiary steel
this aint no freestyle battle
all you niggaz gettin
killed with ya mouths open
tryin to come up offa me
you in the clouds hoping
smokin dope it s like a sherm high
Niggaz think they learned to fly
But they burned muthafucka
you deserve to die
Talkin bout you gettin money
but its funny to me
All you niggaz living bummy
while you fuckin wit me
I m a self made milionare
Thug Livin out a prison
pistols in the air
hahaha
Biggie
remember when I used to let you sleep on my couch
and beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house
ahh
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 you love to hate
Motherfucker
I hit em up
Verse Four:
I m from N-E-W Jerz
where plenty murders occur
No points to be calmer
we bringin drama to all you herbs
Knuckle check the scenario
Little Cease
I bring you fake G s to your knees
Coppin pleas cuz this ain t your area
Lil Kim
is you coked up
or doped up?
Get ya lil Junior 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 you bast stops squaws get mopped and dropped
All your fake-ass east coast props brainstormed and locked
Verse Four:
Youse a
beat biter
a Pac style taker
I ll tell you to ya face you aint shit but a faker
Softer than Alize with a chaser
Bout to get murdered for the paper
Idi Amin approach the scene
Write a caper
like a loc
with little ceaser in a choke hold
Totin smoke
we aint no muthafuckin joke
Thug Life
niggaz betta be knowin
we approchin
in the wide open
guns smokin
no need for hopin its a battle lost
I got across
Soon as the funk was poppin off
Nigga I hit em up
Outro: Tupac
Now you tell me who won
I see them
they run
They don t wanna see us
Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. click dressin up tryin ta be us
How the fuck they gonna 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 gonna kill all you motherfuckers
Now when I came out I told you it was just about Biggie
Then everybody had to open their mouth with a motherfuckin opinion
Well this how we gonna 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 West side till we die!
Out here in California 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 going triple and four-quadruple
(take money)
You niggaz blast as our staff got guns at they
motherfuckers back
you know how it is
When we drop records they feel it
You niggaz can t feel it
We the realest
FUCK EM
we Bad Boy killin *echoes*
Intro: Tupac
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 the realest is niggaz
(take money) We bring it to you
(take money)
Verse One: Tupac
First off
fuck your bitch in the clit you claim
West side 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 Smallz and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark ass bitches
We keep on comin while we runnin for ya jewels
steady gunnin
keep on bustin at the fools
you know the rules
Little 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 tha street
so fuck peace
I let them niggas know it s on for life
So let the West side ride tonight hahahah
Bad Boy murdered on wax
and killed
Fuck wit me and get ya caps peeled
you know ... see ...
Chorus:
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...
Interlude: Tupac
Check this out
you muthafuckas know what time it is
I don t even know why I m on this track
ya ll nigguz ain t even on my level
I ma let my little homies ride on you
bitch made-ass bad boy bitches -- deal with it!!
Verse Two:
Get out the way yo
get out the way yo
Biggie Smallz 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 tracks
little accident murderer
and I ain t never heard-a ya
Poisinous gats attack when I m servin ya
Spank the shank ya whole style when I dank
Guard your rank
cause I ma slam you in the pavement
Puffy weaker that a fuckin rocka wanna do
nigga
and
I ll smoke ya junior mafia in front of you
nigga
With the ready power tuckin my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
ya clout
pretty sour I get packages every hour
and hit em up
Chorus
Verse Three: Tupac
Peep how we do it
keep it real
it s penitentiary steel
this aint no freestyle battle
all you niggaz gettin
killed with ya mouths open
tryin to come up offa me
you in the clouds hoping
smokin dope it s like a sherm high
Niggaz think they learned to fly
But they burned muthafucka
you deserve to die
Talkin bout you gettin money
but its funny to me
All you niggaz living bummy
while you fuckin wit me
I m a self made milionare
Thug Livin out a prison
pistols in the air
hahaha
Biggie
remember when I used to let you sleep on my couch
and beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house
ahh
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 you love to hate
Motherfucker
I hit em up
Verse Four:
I m from N-E-W Jerz
where plenty murders occur
No points to be calmer
we bringin drama to all you herbs
Knuckle check the scenario
Little Cease
I bring you fake G s to your knees
Coppin pleas cuz this ain t your area
Lil Kim
is you coked up
or doped up?
Get ya lil Junior 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 you bast stops squaws get mopped and dropped
All your fake-ass east coast props brainstormed and locked
Verse Four:
Youse a
beat biter
a Pac style taker
I ll tell you to ya face you aint shit but a faker
Softer than Alize with a chaser
Bout to get murdered for the paper
Idi Amin approach the scene
Write a caper
like a loc
with little ceaser in a choke hold
Totin smoke
we aint no muthafuckin joke
Thug Life
niggaz betta be knowin
we approchin
in the wide open
guns smokin
no need for hopin its a battle lost
I got across
Soon as the funk was poppin off
Nigga I hit em up
Outro: Tupac
Now you tell me who won
I see them
they run
They don t wanna see us
Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. click dressin up tryin ta be us
How the fuck they gonna 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 gonna kill all you motherfuckers
Now when I came out I told you it was just about Biggie
Then everybody had to open their mouth with a motherfuckin opinion
Well this how we gonna 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 West side till we die!
Out here in California 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 going triple and four-quadruple
(take money)
You niggaz blast as our staff got guns at they
motherfuckers back
you know how it is
When we drop records they feel it
You niggaz can t feel it
We the realest
FUCK EM
we Bad Boy killin *echoes*
