歌曲名称:Hit em up
歌手:2pac
专辑:Greatest Hits
Ain’t got no motherfuckin’ friends
That’s why I fucked yo’ bitch
You fat motherfucka
(Take money)
West side
Bad 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 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 Boyz’ niggaz
Fucked for life
Plus, Puffy tryin to 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 your 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 Gs
Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the street
So fuck peace
I let them niggas know it’s on for life
So let the West side ride tonight hahaa
Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
Fuck with me and get ya caps peeled
You know
See
Grab your glocks when you see Tupac
Call the cops when you see Tupac (uh)
Who shot me, but ya punks didn’t finish
Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit ’em up!
Check this out, you muthafuckaz know what time it is?
I don’t even know why I’m on this track
Y’all niggaz ain’t even on my level
Imma let my little homies ride on you
Bitch made ass Bad Boy bitches
Deal with it!
Get out the way, yo
Get out the way, yo
Biggie Smallz just got dropped
Little Moo, pass the Mack
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 of ya
Poisinous gats attack
When I’m servin’ ya
Spank the shank
Ya whole style when I dank
Guard your rank
Cause Imma slam your ass in the pavement
Puffy weaker that a fuckin rocka wanna do, nigga
And I’ll smoke your Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, nigga
With the ready power tuckin
My Guess under my Eddie Bauer
Your clout
Pretty sour
I get packages every hour
I hit ’em up
Grab your glocks when you see Tupac
Call the cops when you see Tupac (uh)
Who shot me, but ya punks didn’t finish
Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit ’em up!
Peep how we do it
Keep it real
It’s penitentiary steel
This ain’t no freestyle battle
All you niggaz gettin killed
With your mouths open
Tryin’ to come up off’a 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 it’s funny to me
All you niggaz living bummy
While you fuckin’ wit me
I’m a self made millionaire
Thug livin’ out of prison
Pistols in the air (haha)
Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch
And beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house (uh)
Now it’s all about Versaci
You copied my style
Five shots couldn’t drop me
