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2Pac
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Hit 'Em Up (Featuring Tha Outlawz)
That's why I fucked your bitch you fat motherfucker (Take Money) West Side, Bad Boy Killers (Take Money) (You know) You know who the realist is niggas we bring it to (Take Money) (Take Money)
First off, fuck your bitch and the clique 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 Boys niggas fuck for life Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak hearts I rip Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark ass bitches We keep on coming while we running for your jewels Steady gunning keep on busting at them fools You know the rules Little Ceasar go ask you homie how I'll leave you Cut your young ass up, see you in pieces Now be deceased Little Kim, Don't fuck around with real G's Quick to snatch your ugly ass, off the streets So fuck peace I'll let them niggas know it's on for Life Don't let the west side ride the night (ha ha) Bad Boy murdered on Wax and kill Fuck with me and get your caps peeled You know, see Grab your glocks when you see 2pac Call the cops when you see 2pac, uh Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, I hit 'em up
Check this out (Take Money) You motherfuckers know what time it is I don't even know why I'm on this track (Take Money) Y'all niggas ain't even on my level I'mma let my little homies (Take Money) Ride on you bitch made ass Bad Boy bitches (Feel) (Take Money) Get out the way yo Get out the way yo Biggie Smalls just got dropped Little Moo, pass the mac And let me hit 'em in his back Frank White need to get spanked right For settin' traps Little accident murderers And I ain't never heard of you Poisonous gats attack when I'm serving you Spank the shank, your whole style when I gank Guard your rank 'cause I'mma slam your ass in the paint Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm running through nigga And I'm smoking Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you nigga With the ready power tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer Your clout petty sour I push packages every hour I hit 'em up Grab your glocks when you see 2pac Call the cops when you see 2pac, uh Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, we hit 'em up Peep how we do it keep it real its penitentiary steel This ain't no freestyle battle all you niggas getting killed With your mouths open Tryin' to come up off of me you in the clouds hoping Smoking dope it's like a Sherm high niggas think they learned to fly But they burn motherfucker you deserve to die Talking 'bout you getting money but it's funny to me All you niggas living bummy while you fucking with me I'mma self made millionaire Thug livin', out of prison pistols in the air (ha ha) Biggie remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house Now it's all about Versace you copy my style Five shots couldn't drop me I took it and smiled Now I'm back to set the record straight With my A-K I'm still the thug that you love to hate Motherfucker I Hit 'Em Up I'm from N E W Jers Where plenty murders occurs No points to come we bring drama to all you herds 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 Now go check the scenario Little Ceas' I'll bring you fake G's to your knees Coppin' pleas in de Janeiro Little Kim is you coked up or doped up Get your little Junior Whopper clique smoked up What the fuck? Is you stupid? I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn With my clique looting, shooting, and polluting your block With fifteen shot, cocked glock to your knot Outlaw Mafia clique moving up another notch And your Pop stars popped, get mopped and dropped And all your fake ass east coast props Brainstormed and locked You's a B-Writer A Pac style taker I'll tell you to your face, you ain't shit but a faker Softer than Alize with a chaser 'bout to get murdered for the paper E.D.I. Mean to post the scene of the caper Like a loc, with little Ceasar in a choke Gun toting smoke We ain't no motherfuckin' joke Thug Life, niggas better be known Be approaching In the wide open, gun smoking No need for hoping it's a battle lost I gottem crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off Nigga, I hit 'em up Now you tell me who won I see them, they run (ha ha ha) They don't wanna see us (Take Money) Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique Dressing up trying to be us (Take Money) How the fuck they gonna be the Mob? When we always on our job (Take Money) We millionaire's Killing ain't fair But somebody got to do it (Take Money)
Oh yeah Mobb Deep uh (Take Money) You wanna fuck with us You Little young ass motherfuckers (Take Money) Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something (Take Money) You fucking with me, nigga? You fuck around have a seizure or a heart-attack (Take Money) You better back the fuck up Before you get smacked the fuck up This is how we do it on our side Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it, bring it But we ain't singing, we bringing drama Fuck you and your mother fucking 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 mother fucking opinion Well this is how we gonna' do this: Fuck Mobb Deep, fuck Biggie, Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a mother fucking crew And if you want to be down with Bad Boy, then fuck you too Chino XL, fuck you too All you motherfuckers, fuck you too (Take Money, Take Money) All of y'all mother fuckers, fuck you, die slow motherfucker My .44 make sure all your kids don't grow You motherfuckers can't be us or see us We motherfuckin' Thug Life riders West Side till' we die Out here in California, nigga, we warned ya' We'll bomb on you motherfuckers We do our job You think you the mob, nigga, we the motherfuckin' mob Ain't nothing but killers and the real niggas, all you motherfuckers feel us Our shits go triple and four quadruple (Take Money) You niggas laugh 'cause our staff got guns under they motherfuckin' belts You know how it is and we drop records they felt You niggas can't feel it We the realist Fuck 'em We Bad Boy killers
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