Luyện nghe bài hát Hit Em Up Nu Mixx

I ain't got no friends
why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker
(take money) side!!
Bad Boy
(take money) You who the realest is niggaz
(take money) We it to you
(take money)

First off, fuck your and the click you claim
Westside when we ride come with game
You claim to be a player but I your wife
We on Bad Boy niggaz fucked for life
Plus Puffy ta see me weak hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some bitches
We keep on comin while we for yo' jewels
gunnin, keep on bustin at them fools, you know the rules
Lil' Ceaser, go ask ya homie how I ya
Cut young ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased
Kim, don't fuck around with real G's
Quick to snatch yo' ugly ass off the streets, so fuck
I let them niggaz it's on for life
So let the Westside ride - hahahah
Bad Boy on wax and killed
wit' me and get yo' caps peeled, you know ... see ...

Grab ya glocks, you see Tupac
the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh
Who shot me, but ya punks didn't
Now ya to feel the wrath of a menace
NIGGA, I hit em' up...

Check this out, you motherfuckers know time it is
I don't know why I'm on this track
Y'all ain't even on my level
I'ma let my little homies on you
bitch made-ass bad boy bitches -- deal it!!

Get out the way yo, get out the way yo
Biggie just got dropped
Little Moo, pass the mac, and let me hit him in his
Frank White need to get spanked right, for settin
Little accident murderers, and I ain't never ya
Poisinous attack when I'm servin ya
ya shank ya whole style when I gank
Guard your rank, I'ma slam your ass in the paint
Puffy weaker than the block I'm runnin through nigga
And I'm smokin M.A.F.I.A. in front of you nigga
With the ready power my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
Ya clout petty sour, I get packages hour to hit 'em up

Grab ya glocks, when you see
Call the cops, you see Tupac, uhh
Who shot me, but ya punks finish
Now ya bout to feel the of a menace
NIGGA, I hit em' up...

Peep how we do it, it real, it's penitentiary steel
this ain't no battle, all you niggaz gettin killed
with ya open
Tryin to up offa me, you in the clouds hopin
Smokin it's like a sherm high niggaz think they learned to fly
But they motherfucker, you deserve to die
Talkin bout you money but it's funny to me
All you niggaz livin bummy why you fuckin me?
I'm a self made
Thug out a prison, pistols in the air, haha
Biggie, remember when I used to let you on the couch
and beg a bitch to let you in the house, hah
Now its all about Versacci, you my style
Five shots couldn't drop me, I it and smiled
Now I'm bout to set the record straight, my AK
I'm still the thug that you love to
Motherfucker, I hit 'em up

I'm N-E-W Jerz, where plenty murders occurs
No points in common, we bringin to all you herbs
Knuckle check the scenario, Lil'
I bring you fake G's to your knees, coppin pleas you
Lil Kim, is you coked up, or up?
Get ya lil' Jr. Whopper click smoked up, the fuck
is you STUPID?! I take money, crash and mash through
with my click lootin, and pollutin ya block
15 shots cock glock to your knot
Outlaw mafia click up another notch
And your box top spots get mopped and
and all your fake-ass East coast props brainstormed and

a, beat biter, a Pac style taker
I'll tell you to ya face you shit but a faker
Softer than with a chaser
Bout to get murdered for the
Edi approach the scene of the caper, like a loc
With Ceaser in a choke, huh totin smoke
We ain't no motherfuckin joke Thug niggaz better be knowin
We approchin, in the open, guns smokin
No need for hopin it's a lost, I got 'em crossed
As as the funk was poppin off, nigga I hit 'em up

Now you me who won? I see them, they run
Hehehehe, they wanna see us
Junior M.A.F.I.A. click dressin up tryin to be us
How the fuck they gon' be the mob when we on our job
We millionaires, killin fair but somebody gotta do it
Oh yeah, Mobb Deep, you wanna with us?
You little young-ass
Don't one of you got sickle cell or somethin?
You fuckin me nigga you fuck around
and have a or a heart-attack
You better the fuck up, 'fore you get smacked the fuck up
how we do it on our side
Any of you niggaz from New York that wanna it bring it
But we singin, we bringin drama
you and your motherfuckin mama
We kill all you motherfuckers
Now when I came out I told you it was about Biggie
Then everybody had to they mouth with a motherfuckin opinion
this how we gon' do this
Fuck Mobb Deep, Fuck Biggie, Bad Boy as a staff record label
and as a crew
And if you wanna be down Bad Boy; then fuck you too
XL, fuck you too
All you motherfuckers, you too

(take money)
(take money)
Alla y'all motherfuckers, fuck you die slow
My fo'-fo' make sure all y'all kids grow
You motherfuckers be us or see us
We the motherfuckin Thug Life ridahs Westside we die!
Out here in California we warn ya
We'll on you motherfuckers, we do OUR job
You you mob, nigga we the motherfuckin mob
Ain't nuttin but killers and the niggaz
All you feel us
Our goin triple and four-quadruple
(take money)

You niggaz laugh our staff got, guns in they motherfuckers belts
You know how it is we drop records they felt
You can't feel it, we the realest
'EM, we Bad Boy killin