2pac - Hit 'Em Up (Clean Version) lyrics

[Intro: 2Pac] I ain't got no friends Yeah, I'ma do this track Westside! MOB, Bad Boy k**a! Hahahaha, hey fat boy... [Verse 1: 2Pac] First off, touched your chick and the clique you claim Westside when we ride, come equipped with game You claim to be a playa, but I bust your wife We bust on Bad Boys, brothers touch for life Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak, hearts I rip Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia is some mark a** tricks We keep on comin', while we gunnin' for ya' j**els Steady rushin' while we bustin' at cha fools, you know the rules Little Ceasar go ask you homie how I'll leave ya Cut your trick a** up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased Little Kim, don't conversate with real G's Quick to snatch your ugly a** off the streets, you knew we... I'll let them s**ers know it's on for life Don't let the westside ride tonight (hahaha) Bad Boy murdered on Wax and k**ed Mess with me and get your caps peeled You know, See [Hook: 2Pac] Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac Call the cops when you see 2Pac, Uhh Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace s**er, I hit 'em up [Ad-libs: 2Pac] Yeah, straight out on the Bad Boy camp You know how we do it All my real homeboys in New York keep thuggin' All the rest of you bustas die slow! [Verse 2: Hussein Fatal] Get out the way yo, Hussein Fatal You know Biggie Smalls just got dropped Little Mu' pa** the MAC and let me hit 'em in his back Frank White need to get spanked right for settin' traps Little accident murderer, and I ain't never heard of ya Poise less gats attack when I'm servin' ya Shanke you, spank ya, your whole style when I gank Guard your rank, cause I'ma slam your a** in a pang Puffy weaker than a block that I'm runnin' through And I'm smokin Junior Mafia in front of you With the ready power, tucked in my guess under my Eddie Bower Your clout petty sour I push packages ever hour We hit 'em up [Hook: 2Pac] Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac Call the cops when you see 2Pac Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace Busta, I hit 'em up [Verse 3: 2Pac] Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penintentiary steel This ain't no freestyle battle, all you s**ers gettin' k**ed, with your mouths open Tryin' to come up off of me when the clouds hopin' Smokin' dope, it's like a Sherm high, brothers think they learned to fly Like they burn little s**ers, you deserve to die Talkin' about you gettin' money, but it's funny to me All you s**ers livin' bummy, while you messin' with me I'm a self made millionaire Thug livin', out of prison, pistols in the air Biggie remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch And beg the trick 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 Little busta I'll hit 'em up [Verse 4: Yaki Kadafi] I'm from N-E-W Jerz where plenty of murder occurs No points, no commas we bring drama to all you herds Now go check the scenerio Little Cease, I'll bring my enemies, to they knees, coppin' pleas a degenario Big Mama is ya coked up or doped up Get your little Junior whopper clique smoked up Please tell me is you stupid? I take money, crash and mash, through Brooklyn With my clique lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block With fifteen shot, co*ked Glock to your knot Outlaw Mafia clique movin' up another notch And your Pop stars boxed and get mobbed and dropped And all your fake a** east coast props brainstormed and locked [Verse 5: E.D.I.] You's a B-writer a 'Pac style taker I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothin' but a faker Softer than Alizé with a chaser 'bout to get murdered for the paper EDI Amin approach the scene of the caper Like a loc, with Prodigy in a choke, huh totin' smoke Outlawz we ain't no joke, Thug Life cowards better be known We approachin' in the wide open, gun smokin' No need for hopin', it's a battle lost I got 'em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin' off HAHA, I hit 'em up [Outro: 2Pac] Empty clips, set trip You know what time it is Westside, Outlaw, Thug Life 'til we die California love, california thug You know what time it is Bad Boy k**a Mobb Deep k**a Chino XL k**a Much love to Smiff N Wesson, Freddie Foxxx, Bunchy The Fat ba*tard, Naughty By Nature and all the real thugs out there Keep it comin'! Westsiiide! You know what time it is All my real homeboys in Jersey, get up! Outlaw! Thug Life! to die Westside, Outlaw