Текст песни 2 Pac - Hit`em Up, слова песни 2 Pac

Текст песни 2 Pac - Hit`em Up

2 Pac - Hit`em Up слова песни

Ain`t got no motherfuckin` friendsThat`s why I fucked yo` bitchYou fat motherfucka(Take money)West sideBad Boy killaz(Take money)You know the realest is, niggaz(take money)We bring it to you(Take money)(That`s aiight hahaha)(Take money)Fuck your bitch and the clique you claimWest side when we rideCome equipped with gameYou claim to be a playerBut I fucked your wifeWe bust on Bad Boyz` niggazFucked for lifePlus, Puffy tryin to see meWeak hearts I ripBiggie Smallz and Junior M.A.F.I.A.Some mark ass bitchesWe keep on cominWhile we runnin for ya jewelsSteady gunnin, keep on bustin at the foolsYou know the rulesLittle CeaserGo ask your homie how I leave yaCut your young ass upLeave you in piecesNow be deceasedLil` KimDon`t fuck around with real GsQuick to snatch your ugly ass off the streetSo fuck peaceI let them niggas know it`s on for lifeSo let the West side ride tonight hahaaBad Boy murdered on wax and killedFuck with me and get ya caps peeledYou knowSeeGrab your glocks when you see TupacCall the cops when you see Tupac (uh)Who shot me, but ya punks didn`t finishNow ya bout to feel the wrath of a menaceNigga, I hit `em up!Check this out, you muthafuckaz know what time it is?I don`t even know why I`m on this trackY`all niggaz ain`t even on my levelImma let my little homies ride on youBitch made ass Bad Boy bitchesDeal with it!Get out the way, yoGet out the way, yoBiggie Smallz just got droppedLittle Moo, pass the MackAnd let me hit him in his backFrank White need to get spanked rightFor settin tracksLittle accident murdererAnd I ain`t never heard of yaPoisinous gats attackWhen I`m servin` yaSpank the shankYa whole style when I dankGuard your rankCause Imma slam your ass in the pavementPuffy weaker that a fuckin rocka wanna do, niggaAnd I`ll smoke your Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, niggaWith the ready power tuckinMy Guess under my Eddie BauerYour cloutPretty sourI get packages every hourI hit `em upPeep how we do itKeep it realIt`s penitentiary steelThis ain`t no freestyle battleAll you niggaz gettin killedWith your mouths openTryin` to come up off`a meYou in the clouds hopingSmokin` dope it`s like a sherm highNiggaz think they learned to flyBut they burned muthafuckaYou deserve to dieTalkin `bout you gettin moneyBut it`s funny to meAll you niggaz living bummyWhile you fuckin` wit meI`m a self made millionaireThug livin` out of prisonPistols in the air (haha)Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couchAnd beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house (uh)Now it`s all about VersaciYou copied my styleFive shots couldn`t drop meI took it and smiledNow I`m `bout to set the record straight with my AKI`m still the thug you love to hateMotherfuckaI hit em upI`m from N-E-W-JerzWhere plenty murders occurNo points to calmWe bringin` drama to all you herbsKnuckle check the scenarioLil` Cease, I bring you fake Gs to your kneesCoppin` please, the DJ narrow youLil Kim, is you coked up, or doped up?Get ya lil Junior Whopper clique smoked upWhat the fuck, is you stupid?I take moneyCrash and mash through BrooklynWith my click lootin`Shooting and polluting your blockWith 15 shot cock glock to your knotOutlaw M.A.F.I.A. clique movin` up another notchAnd you bast stops squaws get mopped and droppedAll your fake ass east coast props brainstormed and lockedYouz a beat biter, a Pac style takerI`ll tell you to ya face you aint shitBut a fakerSofter than Alize with a chaser`Bout to get murdered for the paperIdi Amin approach the sceneWrite a caper like a locWith Lil` Ceaser in a choke holdTotin smoke, we aint no muthafuckin` jokeThug Life, niggaz better be knowin`We approchin in the wide open, guns smokin`No need for hopin it`s a battle lost, I got acrossSoon as the funk was poppin offNigga, I hit em up!Now you tell me who won.. I see them, they run..(hahaha)They don`t wanna see usWhole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique dressin up tryin` to be usHow the fuck they gonna be the mob when we always on our job?We`re millionaires, killin` ain`t fair but somebody gotta do itOh yeah, Mobb Deep, you wanna fuck with us?You little young ass motherfuckazDon`t one of you niggaz got sickle cell or sumpin?You fuckin` with me, nigga, you fuck around have a seizure or a heart attackYou better back the fuck up befo` you get smacked the fuck upThat`s how we do it on our sideAny you niggaz from New York that wanna bring it.. bring it!But we ain`t singin`, we bringin` traumaFuck you and your mothafuckin mamaWe gonna kill all you motherfuckazNow when I came out I told you it was just about BiggieThen everybody had to open they mouth with a mothafuckin opinionWell this how we gonna do this... Fuck Mobb Deep!Fuck Biggie... Fuck Bad Boy as a staff record labelAnd as a mothafuckin` crew!And if you wanna be down with Bad BoyThen fuck you, too! Chino XL, fuck you too!All you motherfuckazFuck you too!(Take money) 2xAll of y`all motherfuckaz, fuck youDie slow motherfuckaMy fo fo make sure all y`all kids don`t growYou motherfuckaz can`t be us or see usWe`re motherfuckin thug life ridahzWest side `till we die!Out here in California we warn ya we`ll bomb on you motherfuckazWe do our jobYou think you mob, nigga, WE the motherfuckin` mobAin`t nuttin but killers and the real niggazAll you motherfuckaz feel usOur shit`s going triple and four-quadruple(Take money)You niggaz blast as our staff gotGuns at they motherfuckaz backYou know how it isWhen we dropped records, they felt itYou niggaz can`t feel itWe the realestFuck `em, we Bad Boy killin`(We killin`)

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2 Pac

Hit`em Up

Текст песни 2 Pac - Hit`em Up

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