Hit 'Em Up

I ain't got no motherfuckin friends That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker (take money) West side! Bad Boy killers (take money) You know the realest is niggaz (take money) We bring it to you (take money) 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 I fucked your wife We bust on Bad Boy niggaz fucked for life Plus Puffy tryin ta see me weak hearts I rip Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark ass bitches We keep on comin' while we runnin for ya jewels Steady gunnin', keep on bustin at the fools, you know the rules Little Caesar, go ask ya homey how I leave ya cut your young ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased Lil Kim, don't fuck around with real “G's” Quick to snatch yo' ugly ass off tha street, so fuck peace I let them niggas know it's on for life So let the West side ride tonight hahaha Bad Boy murdered on wax, and killed Fuck wit' me and get ya caps peeled, you know... see... Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh Who shot me, but ya pucks didn't finish Now ya bout to feel the wrath a menace NIGGA, I hit 'em up... Check this out, you muthafuckas know what time it is I don't even know why I'm on this track ya'll niggaz ain't even on my level I'm a let my little homie ride on you bitch mad-ass bad boy bitches - feel it! Get out the way yo, get out the way yo Biggie Smalls just got dropped Little Moo, pass the Mac, and let me hit him in his back Frank White need to get spanked right, for settin' traps little accident murderer, and I ain't never heard a ya Poisonous gats attack when I'm servin ya Spank the shank ya whole style when I gank Guard your rank, cause I'ma slam you in the pavement Puffy weaker that fuckin rocka wanna do, nigga and, I'll smoke ya Junior M.A.F.I.A in front of you, nigga with the ready power tuckin my Guess? under my Eddie Bauer ya clout, pretty sour I get packages every hour and hit em up Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh Who shot me, but ya pucks didn't finish Now ya bout to feel the wrath 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 niggaz gettin killed with ya mouths open tryin to come up offa me, you in the clouds hoping smokin dope it's like a sherm high Niggaz think they learned to fly But they burned muthafucka, you deserve to die Talkin bout you gettin money, but its funny to me All you niggaz living bummy, while you fuckin' wit me I'm a self made millionaire Thug Livin out a prison, pistols in the air, hahaha Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on my couch and beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house, ahh Now its all aoubt Versaci, you copied my style Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it, and smiled Now I'm bout to set the record straight, with my AK I'm still the thug you love to hate Motherfucker, I hit em up I'm from N-E-W Jarz, where plenty murders occur No points to be calmer, we brighting drama to all you herbs Knuckle check the scenario, Little Caesar I bring you fake G's to your knees Coppin please ya deez-a-nario Lil Kim, is you coked up, or doped up? Get ya lil Junior Whopper click smoked up, what the fuck is you STUPID?!?! I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn with my click lootin, shootin and pollutin ya block with 15 shots cock glock to your knot Outlaw M.A.F.I.A. click movin up another notch And you box top squads get mopped and dropped All your fake-ass east coast props brianstormed and locked Youse a, beat biter, a Pac style taker I'll tell you to ya face you ainEUt shit but a faker Softer than Ali's with a chaser Bout to get murdered for the paper Idi Amin approach the scene Or da caper, like a loc, with little Caesar in a choke hold Totin smoke, we ain't no muthafuckin joke Thug Life, niggaz betta be knowing, we approachin in the wide open, guns smoking no need for hopin it's a battle lost, I got across Soon as the funk was poppin off Nigga I hit em up Now you tell me who won I see them, they run They don't wanna see us Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A click dreesin up trying ta be us How the fuck they gonna be the mob when we always on our job We millionaires, killin ain't fair but somebody gotta do it Oh yeah, Mobb Deep, you wanna fuck with us? You little young ass motherfuckers Don't one of you niggaz got sickle cell or something? You fuckin with me nigga you fuck around and have a seizure or a heart attack You better back the fuck up, fore you get smacked the fuck up That's how we do it on our side Any of you niggaz from New York that wanna bring it bring it But we ain't singin, we bringin drama Fuck you and your motherfuckin mama We gonna kill all you motherfuckers Now when I came out I told you it was just about Biggie Then everybody had to open their mouth with a motherfuckin opinion Well this how we gonna do this Fuck Mobb Deep Fuck Biggie Fuck Bad Boy as a staff record label and as a motherfuckin' crew and if you wanna be down with Bad Boy Then fuck you too Chino XL, fuck you too all you motherfuckers, fuck you too (take money) (take money) Alla y'all motherfuckers, fuck you die slow motherfucker My fo-fo make sure all y'all kids don't grow you motherfuckers can't be us or see us We the motherfuckin Thug Life ridahs West Side til we die! Out here in California we warn ya we'll bomb on you motherfuckers We do our job You think you mob, nigga we the motherfuckin' mob Ain't nuttin' but killers and the real niggaz All you motherfuckers feel us Our shit's going triple and four quadruple (take money) You niggaz blast as our staff got guns in they motherfuckers belts, you know how it is When we drop records they felt You niggaz can't feel it We the realest, FUCK EM, we Bad Boy killer