First off
f k your b h
And the clique you claim
West side
when we ride
Come equipped with game
You claim to be a player
But I f ked your wife
We bust on Bad Boys
niggas f k for life
Plus, Puffy tryin' to see me weak
Hearts I 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 I'll leave you
Cut your young ass up
See you in pieces
Now be deceased
Little Kim Don't f k around
with real G's
Quick to snatch yo ugly ass
off the streets
so f k peace
I'll let them niggas know
It's on for Life
Don't let the west side
ride the night
haha
Bad Boys murdered on Wa and kill
f k with me nd get your caps peeled
You know, see
Grab your glocks when you see 2pac
Call the cops when you see 2pac
uh
Who shot me, but you punks didn't finish
Now you 'bout to feel
the wrath of a menace
nigga, I hit 'em up
Check this out
You motherf kers know what time it is
I don't even know why I'm on this track
ya'll niggas ain't even on my level
Imma let my little homies
Ride on you b h made ass
Bad Boys bitches
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 in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right
For setting traps
Little accident murderers
And I ain't never heard of you
Poisonous gats attack
when I'm serving you
Spank the shank
Your whole style when I gank
Guard your rank
'cause I'm a slam your ass in a pang
Puffy weaker than a f kin' block
I'm running through n a
And I'm smoking Junior Mafia
In front of you n a
With the ready power
Tucked in my Guess
Under my Eddie Bauer
Your clout petty sour
I push packages ever hour
I hit 'em up
Grab your glocks when you see 2pac
Call the cops when you see 2pac
uh
Who shot me, but you punks didn't finish
Now you '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 niggas getting killed
With your mouths open
Tryin' to come up off of me
You in the clouds hoping
Smoking dope
It's like a Sherm high
niggas think they learned to fly
But they burn motherf ker
you deserve to die
Talking about you Getting Money
But it's funny to me
All you niggas living bummy
While you f king with me?
I'm a self made Millionaire
Thug livin', out of prison
Pistols in the Air
haha
Biggie remember when I use to let you
sleep on the couch
And beg the b h
to 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
Motherf ker I'll Hit 'Em Up
I'm 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 Ceas'
I'll bring you fake G's
to your knees
Coppin' pleas in de Janeiro
Little Kim is you
Coked up or doped up
Get your little Junior
Whopper clique smoked up
What the f k?
Is you stupid?
I take money
crash and mash
through Brooklyn
With my clique looting, shooting
and polluting your block
With fifteen shot
Cocked glock to your knot
Outlaw Mafia clique
moving up another notch
And your Pop stars popped
get mopped and dropped
And all your fake ass east coast props
Brainstormed and locked
You's a beat biter
Pac style taker
I'll tell you to your face,
you ain't s t but a faker
Soften than Alize with a chaser
'bout to get murdered for the paper
E.D. I mean post the scene of the caper
Like a loc
with little Ceas' in a choke (uh)
Toting smoke
we ain't no motherf kin' joke
Thug Life, niggas better be known
Be approaching
In the wide open, gun smoking
No need for hoping
It's a battle lost
I gottem crossed as soon
as the funk is bopping off
nigga, I hit 'em up
