Prince Ital Joe - Hit 'Em Up (Original Version) lyrics

[Intro: 2Pac] I ain't got no motherf**ing friends What y'all n***as talking about? Hell yeah I'mma do this motherf**ing track And they know exactly who I'm talking about, too, you old b**h-made n***as [Verse 1: 2Pac] Cause uh, n***as talk plenty sh**, so many tricks I f**ed your b**h cause I'm true to this, witness the hit You talk bad about a n***a when I got blasted Hope you made a little money while the funk lasted Heard they call you Big Poppa n***a, how you figure? Cause to me you'll always be a phoney fat n***a I can't be copied even wearing Versace, n***a you run or ruck Scared as f**, if the guns would bust, now n***as talk I got a list of player haters and fakes You b**h n***as getting blown away You cross-eyed Down syndrome crack baby So you and Puffy are tough? Now that's crazy I got your a** in my sight, n***as dying tonight We screaming, "West Side for life" And I can't wait to see you n***as in traffic cause we gonna get 'em up When you see me, you better bust cause I'm a hit 'em up [Hook: 2Pac] Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac Call the cops when you see 2Pac Who shot me? But you punks didn't finish Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace n***a we hit 'em up [Verse 2: Napolean] It's hard to explain, this wasn't my thang when I was younger Before my sh**, I swear to God, I'll make you stick just to make a come up n***as run up cause more murder for the money Got caught up tryna make a harder record, should have been on checked Cause I bet you and it's for life You'll never gonna see a n***a like me wanting a battle up on T.V I'd rather release some of these And put a slug to you buster a** n***as that continue to squeeze I got some n***as back in Jersey that would rather be jacking cars And robbing b**h n***as like y'all for emergency Let's take it back to the West Side Them n***as sure gonna be riders and plus we Thug Life n***as, so call us multiply Finger on the trigger, b**hes stand and rise But we don't trust 'em and they might be the first that we gonna bust up Just label me a Bad Boy k**er You Mobb Deep b**hes gonna feel us when we turn into k**ers Hit 'em up [Verse 3: E.D.I Amin] Now this is me, BBK all day, ain't no blunt, ain't no creeping Strictly Bad Boy k**ing, shoot that a** like a squealer Now let this motherf**ing top down, I'm fitting to drop rounds Letting these sounds, pop and then I'm hot bound Seeing them shatter, shooting my sh** to work a lease go What's up to the riders in L.A, don't preach on up to the East O Shooting that so, C-Lo, circle, that sh** don't hurt you ___________ made to turn you purple Wanna take a plane, but we enemies to the game Well get that a** tamed, simple and plain, y'all know the name Drama, riders, through the whole night n***as get taught, then we bobbin' through, they hits slow No need for running cause we don't give a f** Beside the funky man, we got to hit they a** on up [Verse 4: Hussein Fatal] Get out the way, yo, get out the way yo Biggie Smalls just got shot And I'm a true eagle storming, n***a don't need your fat a** in California I catch you on any East Coast corner and you's a goner Puffy weaker than f**ing block, I'm running through n***a And I'm smoking Junior M.A.F.I.A in front of you n***a With the ready power, tucking my gats under my Eddie Bauer You clothes petty sour, I push packages every hour My sons past when slapping nickels on gla** 40s So hand me cash, you made on that F without your a** shorty I got a team of simple boutable souls With my ears like Yoda quick as a cobra and never sober [Verse 5: Khadafi] I'm on a 12 O' Clock cruise to Brooklyn and I'm looking For the thirl in your barrel ready to get his life tooken So where your k**ers at you fake trick E.D.I. will leave your coward a** stripped and a full clip in your stomach You been all year n***a running Popping every coward and every n***a behind you I made it about impossible For you n***as to escape another 'mergency visit to the hospital I can't wait meet up with all you b**hes in the streets So I can leave all you cowards leaking in your f**ing seats When we hit 'em up [Verse 6: Storm] If you a big bad mothaf**er come step to this I got points in the clip and worms on the tits Who wanna test this to the 1 2 3 bound to get they a** put under Cause the Storm is bringing nothing but thunder Who's the bomb n***a quick to feel that ichy finger Situation of my nine who's the bigger trigger I approached a true G you though I was easy Now you begging on your knees pleasey