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2Pac Feat Outlawz
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Hit Em Up
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Current song lyrics
2PAC FEAT OUTLAWZ HIT 'EM UP LYRICS<br />[Tupac]<br /><br />I ain't got no mutha fuckin friends<br />Thats why I fucked your bitch<br />You fat mutha-fucka {Take Money}<br />West Side<br />Bad Boy Killers {Take Money}<br />You know who the realist is<br />niggas we bring it to {Take Money}<br />(ha ha, that's alright)<br /><br />First off, fuck your bitch<br />And the click you claim<br />West side when we ride<br />Come equipped with game<br />You claim to be a playa<br />But, I fucked your wife<br />We bust on Bad Boys<br />niggas fuck for Life<br />Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak<br />Hearts I rip<br />Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia<br />Some mark ass bitches<br />We keep on coming<br />While we running for yah jewels<br />Steady gunning<br />Keep on busting at them fools<br />You know the rules<br />Little Ceasar go ask you homie<br />How i'll leave yah<br />Cut your young ass up<br />See yah in pieces<br />Now be deceased<br />Little Kim,<br />Don't fuck around with real G's<br />Quick to snatch your ugly ass, off the streets<br />So fuck peace<br />I'll let them niggas know<br />It's on for Life<br />Don't let the west side<br />Ride the night (ha ha)<br />Bad Boys murdered on Wax and kill<br />fuck with me<br />And get your caps peeled<br />You know, See<br /><br />[Chorus]<br /><br />Grab your glocks when you see 2pac<br />Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh<br />Who shot me,<br />But, your punks didn't finish<br />Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace<br />nigga, I hit 'em up<br /><br />Check this out<br />You mutha-fuckas know what time it is<br />I don't know why I'm even on this track<br />Y'all niggas ain't even on my level<br />I'm going to let my little homies<br />Ride on yah<br />bitch made ass Bad Boys bitches<br />{ahh yo, yo, hold the fuck up}<br /><br />Get out the way yo<br />Get out the way yo<br />Biggie Smalls just got dropped<br />Little move pa*s the mac<br />And let me hit 'em in his back<br />Frank White needs to get spanked right<br />For setting up traps<br />Little accident murderers<br />And I ain't never heard of yah<br />Poise less gats attack when I'm serving yah<br />Spank the shank<br />Your whole style when I gank<br />Guard your rank<br />Cause I'm a slam your ass in a pang<br />Puffy weaker than a fuckin' block<br />I'm running through nigga<br />And I'm smoking Junior Mafia<br />In front of yah nigga<br />With the ready power<br />Tucked in my Guess<br />Under my Eddie Bower<br />Your clout petty sour<br />I push packages ever hour<br />I hit 'em up<br /><br />[Chorus]<br /><br />Grab your glocks when you see 2pac<br />Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh<br />Who shot me,<br />But, your punks didn't finish<br />Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace<br />nigga, We hit 'em up<br /><br />Peep how we do it<br />Keep it real<br />Its penitentiary steel<br />This ain't no freestyle battle<br />All you niggas getting killed<br />With your mouths open<br />Tryin' to come up off of me<br />You and the clouds hoping<br />Smoking dope<br />It's like a Shermine<br />niggas think they learned to fly<br />But they burn mutha-fucka you deserve to die<br />Talking about you Getting Money<br />But its funny to me<br />All you niggas living bummy<br />While you fucking with me?<br />I'm a self made Millionaire<br />Thug livin', out of prison<br />Pistols in the Air {Air} (Ha Ha)<br />Biggie remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch<br />And beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house<br />Now its all about versace<br />You copied my style<br />Five shots couldn't drop me<br />I took it and smiled<br />Now I'm back to set the record straight<br />With my A-K<br />I'm still the thug that you love to hate<br />Mutha-fucka I'll Hit 'Em Up<br /><br />I'm from N E W Jers.<br />Where plenty of murder occurs<br />No points to come<br />We bring drama to all you herds<br />Now go check the scenerio<br />Little Ceas'<br />I'll bring you fake G's to yah knees<br />Copin' pleas with these<br />Little Kim is yah<br />Coked up or doped up<br />Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up<br />What the fuck?<br />Is you stupid?<br />I take money,<br />crash and mash through Brooklyn<br />With my click looting, shooting, and polluting your block<br />With fifteen shot,<br />Cocked glock to your knot<br />Outlaw Mafia click moving up another notch<br />And your Pop stars popped and get dropped and mopped<br />And all your fake ass east coast props<br />Brainstormed and locked<br /><br />You'se a beat biter<br />Pac style taker<br />I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothing shit but a faker<br />So fill the Alazhay with a chaser<br />'bout to get murdered for the paper<br />E.d.i I mean post the scene of the caper<br />Like a loc, with little Ceas' in a choke (uhh)<br />Toting smoke, we ain't no mutha-fuckin' joke<br />Thug Life, niggas better be known<br />Be approaching<br />In the wide open, gun smoking<br />No need for hoping<br />It's a battle lost<br />I gottem crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off<br />nigga, I hit 'em up<br /><br />Now you tell me who won<br />I see them, they run (ha ha)<br />They don't wanna see us<br />Whole Junior Mafia click<br />Dressing up to be us<br />How the fuck they gonna be the Mob?<br />When we always on out job<br />We millionaire's<br />Killing ain't fair<br />But somebody got to do it<br /><br />Oh yah Mobb Deep (uhh)<br />You wanna fuck with us<br />You Little young ass mutha-fuckas<br />Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something<br />You fucking with me, nigga ?<br />You fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack<br />You better back the fuck up<br />Before you get smacked the fuck up<br />This is how we do it on our side<br />Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it,<br />Bring it.<br />But we ain't singing,<br />We bringing drama<br />fuck you and your mother fucking mama.<br />We gonna kill all you mother fuckers.<br />Now when I came out, I told you it was just about biggie.<br />Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother fuckin opinion<br />Well this is how we gon' do this:<br />fuck Mobb Deep,<br />fuck Biggie,<br />fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a mother fuckin crew.<br />And if you want to be down with Bad Boy,<br />Then fuck you too.<br />Chino XL, fuck you too.<br />All you mother fuckers,<br />fuck you too.<br />(take money, take money)<br />All of y'all mother fuckers,<br />fuck you, die slow mother fucker.<br />My fo' fo' (.44 magnum) make sure all yo' kids don't grow.<br />You mother fuckers can't be us or see us.<br />We mother fuckin' Thug Life riders.<br />West Side till' we die.<br />Out here in California, nigga<br />We warned ya'<br />We'll bomb on you mother fuckers.<br />We do our job.<br />You think you the mob, nigga, we the mother fuckin' mob<br />Ain't nuttin' but killers<br />And the real niggas, all you mother fuckers feel us.<br />Our shit goes triple and four quadruple<br />You niggas laugh cuz our staff got guns under they mother fuckin' belts<br />You know how it is and we drop records they felt<br />You niggas can't feel it<br />We the realist<br />fuck 'em.<br />We Bad Boy killas evanecence my mortal Lyrics - Lyrics - Midnight Starr Slow Jam Lyrics
New song lyrics
2PAC FEAT OUTLAWZ HIT 'EM UP LYRICS<br />[Tupac]<br /><br />I ain't got no mutha fuckin friends<br />Thats why I fucked your bitch<br />You fat mutha-fucka {Take Money}<br />West Side<br />Bad Boy Killers {Take Money}<br />You know who the realist is<br />niggas we bring it to {Take Money}<br />(ha ha, that's alright)<br /><br />First off, fuck your bitch<br />And the click you claim<br />West side when we ride<br />Come equipped with game<br />You claim to be a playa<br />But, I fucked your wife<br />We bust on Bad Boys<br />niggas fuck for Life<br />Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak<br />Hearts I rip<br />Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia<br />Some mark ass bitches<br />We keep on coming<br />While we running for yah jewels<br />Steady gunning<br />Keep on busting at them fools<br />You know the rules<br />Little Ceasar go ask you homie<br />How i'll leave yah<br />Cut your young ass up<br />See yah in pieces<br />Now be deceased<br />Little Kim,<br />Don't fuck around with real G's<br />Quick to snatch your ugly ass, off the streets<br />So fuck peace<br />I'll let them niggas know<br />It's on for Life<br />Don't let the west side<br />Ride the night (ha ha)<br />Bad Boys murdered on Wax and kill<br />fuck with me<br />And get your caps peeled<br />You know, See<br /><br />[Chorus]<br /><br />Grab your glocks when you see 2pac<br />Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh<br />Who shot me,<br />But, your punks didn't finish<br />Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace<br />nigga, I hit 'em up<br /><br />Check this out<br />You mutha-fuckas know what time it is<br />I don't know why I'm even on this track<br />Y'all niggas ain't even on my level<br />I'm going to let my little homies<br />Ride on yah<br />bitch made ass Bad Boys bitches<br />{ahh yo, yo, hold the fuck up}<br /><br />Get out the way yo<br />Get out the way yo<br />Biggie Smalls just got dropped<br />Little move pa*s the mac<br />And let me hit 'em in his back<br />Frank White needs to get spanked right<br />For setting up traps<br />Little accident murderers<br />And I ain't never heard of yah<br />Poise less gats attack when I'm serving yah<br />Spank the shank<br />Your whole style when I gank<br />Guard your rank<br />Cause I'm a slam your ass in a pang<br />Puffy weaker than a fuckin' block<br />I'm running through nigga<br />And I'm smoking Junior Mafia<br />In front of yah nigga<br />With the ready power<br />Tucked in my Guess<br />Under my Eddie Bower<br />Your clout petty sour<br />I push packages ever hour<br />I hit 'em up<br /><br />[Chorus]<br /><br />Grab your glocks when you see 2pac<br />Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh<br />Who shot me,<br />But, your punks didn't finish<br />Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace<br />nigga, We hit 'em up<br /><br />Peep how we do it<br />Keep it real<br />Its penitentiary steel<br />This ain't no freestyle battle<br />All you niggas getting killed<br />With your mouths open<br />Tryin' to come up off of me<br />You and the clouds hoping<br />Smoking dope<br />It's like a Shermine<br />niggas think they learned to fly<br />But they burn mutha-fucka you deserve to die<br />Talking about you Getting Money<br />But its funny to me<br />All you niggas living bummy<br />While you fucking with me?<br />I'm a self made Millionaire<br />Thug livin', out of prison<br />Pistols in the Air {Air} (Ha Ha)<br />Biggie remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch<br />And beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house<br />Now its all about versace<br />You copied my style<br />Five shots couldn't drop me<br />I took it and smiled<br />Now I'm back to set the record straight<br />With my A-K<br />I'm still the thug that you love to hate<br />Mutha-fucka I'll Hit 'Em Up<br /><br />I'm from N E W Jers.<br />Where plenty of murder occurs<br />No points to come<br />We bring drama to all you herds<br />Now go check the scenerio<br />Little Ceas'<br />I'll bring you fake G's to yah knees<br />Copin' pleas with these<br />Little Kim is yah<br />Coked up or doped up<br />Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up<br />What the fuck?<br />Is you stupid?<br />I take money,<br />crash and mash through Brooklyn<br />With my click looting, shooting, and polluting your block<br />With fifteen shot,<br />Cocked glock to your knot<br />Outlaw Mafia click moving up another notch<br />And your Pop stars popped and get dropped and mopped<br />And all your fake ass east coast props<br />Brainstormed and locked<br /><br />You'se a beat biter<br />Pac style taker<br />I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothing shit but a faker<br />So fill the Alazhay with a chaser<br />'bout to get murdered for the paper<br />E.d.i I mean post the scene of the caper<br />Like a loc, with little Ceas' in a choke (uhh)<br />Toting smoke, we ain't no mutha-fuckin' joke<br />Thug Life, niggas better be known<br />Be approaching<br />In the wide open, gun smoking<br />No need for hoping<br />It's a battle lost<br />I gottem crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off<br />nigga, I hit 'em up<br /><br />Now you tell me who won<br />I see them, they run (ha ha)<br />They don't wanna see us<br />Whole Junior Mafia click<br />Dressing up to be us<br />How the fuck they gonna be the Mob?<br />When we always on out job<br />We millionaire's<br />Killing ain't fair<br />But somebody got to do it<br /><br />Oh yah Mobb Deep (uhh)<br />You wanna fuck with us<br />You Little young ass mutha-fuckas<br />Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something<br />You fucking with me, nigga ?<br />You fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack<br />You better back the fuck up<br />Before you get smacked the fuck up<br />This is how we do it on our side<br />Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it,<br />Bring it.<br />But we ain't singing,<br />We bringing drama<br />fuck you and your mother fucking mama.<br />We gonna kill all you mother fuckers.<br />Now when I came out, I told you it was just about biggie.<br />Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother fuckin opinion<br />Well this is how we gon' do this:<br />fuck Mobb Deep,<br />fuck Biggie,<br />fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a mother fuckin crew.<br />And if you want to be down with Bad Boy,<br />Then fuck you too.<br />Chino XL, fuck you too.<br />All you mother fuckers,<br />fuck you too.<br />(take money, take money)<br />All of y'all mother fuckers,<br />fuck you, die slow mother fucker.<br />My fo' fo' (.44 magnum) make sure all yo' kids don't grow.<br />You mother fuckers can't be us or see us.<br />We mother fuckin' Thug Life riders.<br />West Side till' we die.<br />Out here in California, nigga<br />We warned ya'<br />We'll bomb on you mother fuckers.<br />We do our job.<br />You think you the mob, nigga, we the mother fuckin' mob<br />Ain't nuttin' but killers<br />And the real niggas, all you mother fuckers feel us.<br />Our shit goes triple and four quadruple<br />You niggas laugh cuz our staff got guns under they mother fuckin' belts<br />You know how it is and we drop records they felt<br />You niggas can't feel it<br />We the realist<br />fuck 'em.<br />We Bad Boy killas evanecence my mortal Lyrics - Lyrics - Midnight Starr Slow Jam Lyrics
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