2pac - Hit Em Up Şarkı Sözü

[tupac]
ı aint got no motherfucking friends
thats why ı fucked your bitch
youre fat motherfucker {take money}
west side
bad boy killers {take money}
you know who the realist ıs
niggas we bring ıt to {take money}
(ha ha, thats alright)

first off, fuck your bitch
and the click you claim
west side when we ride
come equipped with game
you claim to be a player
but ı fucked your wife
we bust on bad boys
niggas fuck for life
plus puffy tryin to see me weak
hearts ı rip
biggie smalls and junior mafia
some mark ass bitches
we keep on coming
while we running for your jewels
steady gunning
keep on busting at them fools
you know the rules
little ceasar go ask you homie
how ıll leave you
cut your young ass up
see you ın pieces
now be deceased
little kim,
dont fuck around with real gs
quick to snatch your ugly ass, off the streets
so fuck peace
ıll let them niggas know
ıts on for life
dont let the west side
ride the night (ha ha)
bad boys murdered on wax and kill
fuck with me
and get your caps peeled
you know, see

[chorus:]
grab your glocks when you see 2pac
call the cops when you see 2pac, uh
who shot me,
but your punks didnt finish
now you bout to feel the wrath of a menace
nigga, ı hit em up

check this out
you motherfuckers know what time ıt ıs
ı dont know why ım even on this track
you all niggas aint even on my level
ım going to let my little homies
ride on you
bitch made ass bad boys bitches
{ah yo, yo, hold the fuck up}

get out the way yo
get out the way yo
biggie smalls just got dropped
little move pass the mac
and let me hit em ın his back
frank white needs to get spanked right
for setting up traps
little accident murderers
and ı aint never heard of you
poise less gats attack when ım serving you
spank the shank
your whole style when ı gank
guard your rank
cause ım a slam your ass ın a pang
puffy weaker than a fuckin block
ım running through nigga
and ım smoking junior mafia
ın front of you nigga
with the ready power
tucked ın my guess
under my eddie bauer
your clout petty sour
ı push packages ever hour
ı hit em up

[chorus]

peep how we do ıt
keep ıt real
ıts penitentiary steel
this aint no freestyle battle
all you niggas getting killed
with your mouths open
tryin to come up off of me
you and the clouds hoping
smoking dope
ıts like a shermine
niggas think they learned to fly
but they burn motherfucker you deserve to die
talking about you getting money
but ıts funny to me
all you niggas living bummy
while you fucking with me?
ım a self made millionaire
thug livin, out of prison
pistols ın the air {air} (ha ha)
biggie remember when ı use to let you sleep on the couch
and beg the bitch to let you sleep ın the house
now ıts all about versace
you copied my style
five shots couldnt drop me
ı took ıt and smiled
now ım back to set the record straight
with my a-k
ım still the thug that you love to hate
mother-fucker ıll hit em up

ım from n e w jers.
where plenty of murder occurs
no points to come
we bring drama to all you herds
now go check the scenario
little ceasıll bring you fake gs to your knees
copin pleas with these
little kim ıs you
coked up or doped up
get your little junior whopper click smoked up
what the fuck?
ıs you stupid?
ı take money,
crash and mash through brooklyn
with my click looting, shooting, and polluting your block
with fifteen shot,
cocked glock to your knot
outlaw mafia click moving up another notch
and your pop stars popped and get dropped and mopped
and all your fake ass east coast props
brainstormed and locked

youre a beat biter
pac style taker
ıll tell you to face, you aint nothing shit but a faker
so fill the alize with a chaser
bout to get murdered for the paper
e.d.i ı mean post the scene of the caper
like a loc, with little ceas ın a choke (uh)
toting smoke, we aint no motherfuckin joke
thug life, niggas better be known
be approaching
ın the wide open, gun smoking
no need for hoping
ıts a battle lost
ı gottem crossed as soon as the funk ıs bopping off
nigga, ı hit em up

now you tell me who won
ı see them, they run (ha ha)
they dont wanna see us
whole junior mafia click
dressing up to be us
how the fuck they gonna be the mob?
when we always on out job
we millionaires
killing aint fair
but somebody got to do ıt

oh yah mobb deep (uh)
you wanna fuck with us
you little young ass motherfuckers
dont one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something
youre fucking with me, nigga?
you fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack
you better back the fuck up
before you get smacked the fuck up
this ıs how we do ıt on our side
any of you niggas from new york that want to bring ıt,
bring ıt.
but we aint singing,
we bringing drama
fuck you and your mother fucking mama.
were gonna kill all you mother fuckers.
now when ı came out, ı told you ıt was just about biggie.
then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother fucking opinion
well this ıs how we gonna do this:
fuck mobb deep,
fuck biggie,
fuck bad boy as a staff, record label, and as a mother fucking crew.
and ıf you want to be down with bad boy,
then fuck you too.
chino xl, fuck you too.
all you mother fuckers,
fuck you too.
(take money, take money)
all of yall mother fuckers,
fuck you, die slow motherfucker.
my four four (.44 magnum) make sure all your kids dont grow.
you motherfuckers cant be us or see us.
we mother fuckin thug life riders.
west side till we die.
out here ın california, nigga
we warned yawell bomb on you mother fuckers.
we do our job.
you think you the mob, nigga, we the motherfuckin mob
aint nothing but killers
and the real niggas, all you motherfuckers feel us.
our shit goes triple and four quadruple
you niggas laugh cause our staff got guns under they motherfuckin belts
you know how ıt ıs and we drop records they felt
you niggas cant feel ıt
we the realist
fuck em.
we bad boy killers.
Ekleyen : Ali İhsan Candemir