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2Pac
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1
I ain't got no motherfuckin friends
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That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker
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(take money) West side!!
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Bad Boy killers
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(take money) You know who the realest is niggaz
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(take money) We bring it to you
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(take money)
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First off, fuck your bitch and the click you claim
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Westside when we ride come equipped with game
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You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife
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We bust on Bad Boy niggaz fucked for life
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Plus Puffy tryin ta see me weak hearts I rip
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Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark-ass bitches
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We keep on comin while we runnin for yo' jewels
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Steady gunnin, keep on bustin at them fools, you know the rules
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Lil' Ceaser, go ask ya homie how I leave ya
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Cut your young ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased
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Lil' Kim, don't fuck around with real G's
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Quick to snatch yo' ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace
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I let them niggaz know it's on for life
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So let the Westside ride tonight - hahahah
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Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
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Fuck wit' me and get yo' caps peeled, you know ... see ...
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Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac
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Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh
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Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish
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Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace
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NIGGA, I hit em' up...
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Check this out, you motherfuckers know what time it is
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I don't even know why I'm on this track
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Y'all niggaz ain't even on my level
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I'ma let my little homies ride on you
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bitch made-ass bad boy bitches -- deal with it!!
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Get out the way yo, get out the way yo
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Biggie Smalls just got dropped
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Little Moo, pass the mac, and let me hit him in his back
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Frank White need to get spanked right, for settin traps
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Little accident murderers, and I ain't never heard-a ya
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Poisinous gats attack when I'm servin ya
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Spank ya shank ya whole style when I gank
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Guard your rank, cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint
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Puffy weaker than the fuckin block I'm runnin through nigga
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And I'm smokin Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you nigga
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With the ready power tuckin my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
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Ya clout petty sour, I get packages every hour to hit 'em up
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Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac
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Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh
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Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish
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Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace
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NIGGA, I hit em' up...
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Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel
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this ain't no freestyle battle, all you niggaz gettin killed
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with ya mouths open
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Tryin to come up offa me, you in the clouds hopin
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Smokin dope it's like a sherm high niggaz think they learned to fly
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But they burn motherfucker, you deserve to die
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Talkin bout you gettin money but it's funny to me
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All you niggaz livin bummy why you fuckin with me?
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I'm a self made millionare
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Thug Livin out a prison, pistols in the air, haha
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Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch
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and beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house, hah
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Now its all about Versacci, you copied my style
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Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled
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Now I'm bout to set the record straight, with my AK
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I'm still the thug that you love to hate
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Motherfucker, I hit 'em up
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I'm from N-E-W Jerz, where plenty murders occurs
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No points in common, we bringin drama to all you herbs
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Knuckle check the scenario, Lil' Cease
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I bring you fake G's to your knees, coppin pleas you Degenario
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Lil Kim, is you coked up, or doped up?
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Get ya lil' Jr. Whopper click smoked up, what the fuck
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is you STUPID?! I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn
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with my click lootin, shootin and pollutin ya block
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with 15 shots cock glock to your knot
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Outlaw mafia click movin up another notch
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And your box top spots get mopped and dropped
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and all your fake-ass East coast props brainstormed and locked
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Youse a, beat biter, a Pac style taker
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I'll tell you to ya face you ain't shit but a faker
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Softer than Alize with a chaser
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Bout to get murdered for the paper
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Edi Amin approach the scene of the caper, like a loc
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With Lil' Ceaser in a choke, huh totin smoke
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We ain't no motherfuckin joke Thug Life niggaz better be knowin
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We approchin, in the wide open, guns smokin
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No need for hopin it's a battle lost, I got 'em crossed
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As soon as the funk was poppin off, nigga I hit 'em up
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Now you tell me who won? I see them, they run
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Hehehehe, they don't wanna see us
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Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. click dressin up tryin to be us
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How the fuck they gon' be the mob when we always on our job
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We millionaires, killin ain't fair but somebody gotta do it
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Oh yeah, Mobb Deep, you wanna fuck with us?
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You little young-ass motherfuckers
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Don't one of you niggaz got sickle cell or somethin?
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You fuckin with me nigga you fuck around
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and have a seizure or a heart-attack
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You better back the fuck up, 'fore you get smacked the fuck up
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That's how we do it on our side
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Any of you niggaz from New York that wanna bring it bring it
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But we ain't singin, we bringin drama
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Fuck you and your motherfuckin mama
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We gon' kill all you motherfuckers
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Now when I came out I told you it was just about Biggie
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Then everybody had to open they mouth with a motherfuckin opinion
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Well this how we gon' do this
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Fuck Mobb Deep, Fuck Biggie, Fuck Bad Boy as a staff record label
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and as a motherfuckin crew
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And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy; then fuck you too
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Chino XL, fuck you too
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All you motherfuckers, fuck you too
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(take money)
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(take money)
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Alla y'all motherfuckers, fuck you die slow motherfucker
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My fo'-fo' make sure all y'all kids don't grow
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You motherfuckers can't be us or see us
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We the motherfuckin Thug Life ridahs Westside till we die!
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Out here in California nigga we warn ya
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We'll BOMB on you motherfuckers, we do OUR job
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You think you mob, nigga we the motherfuckin mob
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Ain't nuttin but killers and the real niggaz
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All you motherfuckers feel us
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Our shit's goin triple and four-quadruple
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(take money)
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You niggaz laugh cause our staff got, guns in they motherfuckers belts
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You know how it is when we drop records they felt
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You niggaz can't feel it, we the realest
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FUCK 'EM, we Bad Boy killin
2Pac - Hit 'Em Up (Dirty) (Music Video) ...
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