Songtexte: 2Pac. Otras Canciones. Hit 'em Up (Radio Version).
:
(feat. Outlawz)
[Intro: 2Pac]
I ain't got no friends
Yeah, I'm a do this track
Westside!
MOB, Bad Boy Killa!
Hahahaha, hey fat boy...
[Verse 1: 2Pac]
First off, touched your chick and the click you claim
Westside when we ride, come equipped with game
You claim to be a playa but I bust your wife
We bust on Bad Boys brothers touch for life
Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak, hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia is some mark ass tricks
We keep on comin' while we gunnin' for ya' jewels
Steady rushin' while we bustin' at them fools, you know the rules
Little Ceasar go ask you homie how I'll leave ya
Cut your trick ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased
Little Kim, don't conversate with real G's
Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the streets, you knew we...
I'll let them suckers know it's on for life
Don't let the westside ride tonight (hahaha)
Bad Boy murdered on Wax and killed
Mess with me and get your caps peeled
You know, See
[Chorus: 2Pac]
Grab your glocks when you see Tupac
Call the cops when you see Tupac, Uhh
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Sucker, I hit 'em up
[2Pac:]
Yeah, straight out on the Bad Boy camp
You know how we do it
All my real homeboys in New York keep thuggin'
All the rest of you bustas die slow!
[Verse 2: Hussein Fatal]
Get out the way yo, Hussein Fatal
You know Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little Mu' 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 ya
Poise less gats attack when I'm servin' ya
Shanke you, spank ya, your whole style when I gank
Guard your rank cause I'm a slam your ass in a pang
Puffy weaker than a block that I'm runnin' through
And I'm smokin Junior Mafia in front of you
With the ready power, tucked in my guess under my Eddie Bower
Your clout petty sour I push packages ever hour
We hit 'em up
[Chorus: 2Pac]
Grab your glocks when you see Tupac
Call the cops when you see Tupac
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Busta, I hit 'em up
[Verse 3: 2Pac]
Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penintentiary steel
This ain't no freestyle battle, all you suckers gettin' killed with your
Mouths open
Tryin' to come up off of me you and the clouds hopin', smokin' dope
It's like a Shermine brothers think they learned to fly
But they burn little suckers you deserve to die
Talkin' about you gettin' money but it's funny to me
All you suckers livin' bummy while you messin' with me
I'm a self made millionaire
Thug livin', out of prison, pistols in the air
Biggie remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch
And beg the trick that I 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 A-K
I'm still the thug that you love to hate
Little busta I'll Hit 'Em Up
[Verse 4: Yaki Kadafi]
I'm from N-E-W Jerz where plenty of murder occurs
No points, no commas we bring drama to all you herds
Now go check the scenerio
Little Ceas' I'll bring my enemies to they knees
Coppin' pleas a Degenario
Big Mama is ya coked up or doped up
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up
Please tell me is you stupid?
I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block
With fifteen shot, Cocked glock to your knot
Outlaw Mafia click movin' up another notch
And your Pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped
And all your fake ass east coast props brainstormed and locked
[Verse 5: E.D.I.]
You'se a B-writer a 'Pac style taker
I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothin' but a faker
Softer than Alize with a chaser
'bout to get murdered for the paper
EDI Mean approach the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with Prodigy in a choke, huh totin' smoke
Outlawz we ain't no joke, Thug Life cowards better be known
Be approachin' in the wide open, gun smokin'
No need for hopin', it's a battle lost
I got em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin' off
HAHA, I hit 'em up
[Outro: 2Pac]
Empty clips, set trip
You know what time it is
Westside, Outlaw, Thug Life till we die
California love, california thug
You know what time it is
Bad Boy Killa
Mobb Deep Killa
Chino XL Killa
Much love to Smiff N Wesson, Freddie Foxxx, Bunchy The Fat Bastard, Naughty
By Nature and all the real thugs out there
Keep it comin'!
Westsiiide!
You know what time it is
All my real homeboyz in Jerzey, get up!
Outlaw! Thug Life! to die
Westside, Outlaw
(feat. Outlawz)
[Intro: 2Pac]
I ain't got no friends
Yeah, I'm a do this track
Westside!
MOB, Bad Boy Killa!
Hahahaha, hey fat boy...
[Verse 1: 2Pac]
First off, touched your chick and the click you claim
Westside when we ride, come equipped with game
You claim to be a playa but I bust your wife
We bust on Bad Boys brothers touch for life
Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak, hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia is some mark ass tricks
We keep on comin' while we gunnin' for ya' jewels
Steady rushin' while we bustin' at them fools, you know the rules
Little Ceasar go ask you homie how I'll leave ya
Cut your trick ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased
Little Kim, don't conversate with real G's
Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the streets, you knew we...
I'll let them suckers know it's on for life
Don't let the westside ride tonight (hahaha)
Bad Boy murdered on Wax and killed
Mess with me and get your caps peeled
You know, See
[Chorus: 2Pac]
Grab your glocks when you see Tupac
Call the cops when you see Tupac, Uhh
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Sucker, I hit 'em up
[2Pac:]
Yeah, straight out on the Bad Boy camp
You know how we do it
All my real homeboys in New York keep thuggin'
All the rest of you bustas die slow!
[Verse 2: Hussein Fatal]
Get out the way yo, Hussein Fatal
You know Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little Mu' 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 ya
Poise less gats attack when I'm servin' ya
Shanke you, spank ya, your whole style when I gank
Guard your rank cause I'm a slam your ass in a pang
Puffy weaker than a block that I'm runnin' through
And I'm smokin Junior Mafia in front of you
With the ready power, tucked in my guess under my Eddie Bower
Your clout petty sour I push packages ever hour
We hit 'em up
[Chorus: 2Pac]
Grab your glocks when you see Tupac
Call the cops when you see Tupac
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Busta, I hit 'em up
[Verse 3: 2Pac]
Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penintentiary steel
This ain't no freestyle battle, all you suckers gettin' killed with your
Mouths open
Tryin' to come up off of me you and the clouds hopin', smokin' dope
It's like a Shermine brothers think they learned to fly
But they burn little suckers you deserve to die
Talkin' about you gettin' money but it's funny to me
All you suckers livin' bummy while you messin' with me
I'm a self made millionaire
Thug livin', out of prison, pistols in the air
Biggie remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch
And beg the trick that I 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 A-K
I'm still the thug that you love to hate
Little busta I'll Hit 'Em Up
[Verse 4: Yaki Kadafi]
I'm from N-E-W Jerz where plenty of murder occurs
No points, no commas we bring drama to all you herds
Now go check the scenerio
Little Ceas' I'll bring my enemies to they knees
Coppin' pleas a Degenario
Big Mama is ya coked up or doped up
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up
Please tell me is you stupid?
I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block
With fifteen shot, Cocked glock to your knot
Outlaw Mafia click movin' up another notch
And your Pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped
And all your fake ass east coast props brainstormed and locked
[Verse 5: E.D.I.]
You'se a B-writer a 'Pac style taker
I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothin' but a faker
Softer than Alize with a chaser
'bout to get murdered for the paper
EDI Mean approach the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with Prodigy in a choke, huh totin' smoke
Outlawz we ain't no joke, Thug Life cowards better be known
Be approachin' in the wide open, gun smokin'
No need for hopin', it's a battle lost
I got em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin' off
HAHA, I hit 'em up
[Outro: 2Pac]
Empty clips, set trip
You know what time it is
Westside, Outlaw, Thug Life till we die
California love, california thug
You know what time it is
Bad Boy Killa
Mobb Deep Killa
Chino XL Killa
Much love to Smiff N Wesson, Freddie Foxxx, Bunchy The Fat Bastard, Naughty
By Nature and all the real thugs out there
Keep it comin'!
Westsiiide!
You know what time it is
All my real homeboyz in Jerzey, get up!
Outlaw! Thug Life! to die
Westside, Outlaw
2pac
Otras Canciones
2pac
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