Hit Em Up

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