Luyện nghe bài hát Hit Em Up Nu Mixx

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

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

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

Check this out, you motherfuckers know time it is
I even know why I'm on this track
Y'all niggaz even on my level
I'ma let my little homies on you
bitch made-ass bad boy bitches -- with it!!

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

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

how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel
this ain't no battle, all you niggaz gettin killed
ya mouths open
Tryin to up offa me, you in the clouds hopin
Smokin dope like a sherm high niggaz think they learned to fly
But burn motherfucker, you deserve to die
Talkin bout you gettin money but it's to me
All you niggaz livin why you fuckin with me?
I'm a self millionare
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 Versacci, you copied my style
shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled
Now I'm 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 Jerz, where plenty murders occurs
No points in common, we drama to all you herbs
check the scenario, Lil' Cease
I you fake G's to your knees, coppin pleas you Degenario
Lil Kim, is you coked up, or up?
Get ya lil' Jr. Whopper smoked up, what the fuck
is you STUPID?! I take money, crash and through Brooklyn
with my click lootin, shootin and pollutin ya
with 15 shots glock to your knot
mafia click movin up another notch
And your box top get mopped and dropped
and all your fake-ass East props brainstormed and locked

Youse a, beat biter, a Pac style
I'll tell you to ya face you ain't shit but a
than Alize with a chaser
Bout to get for the paper
Edi Amin the scene of the caper, like a loc
With Lil' Ceaser in a choke, huh smoke
We ain't no motherfuckin joke Thug Life better be knowin
We approchin, in the wide open, guns
No need for hopin it's a lost, I got 'em crossed
As soon as the was poppin off, nigga I hit 'em up

Now you me who won? I see them, they run
Hehehehe, don't wanna see us
Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. click dressin up to be us
How the they gon' be the mob when we always on our job
We millionaires, killin ain't fair but gotta do it
Oh yeah, Mobb Deep, you fuck 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 back the fuck up, 'fore you get the fuck up
how we do it on our side
Any of you niggaz from New York wanna bring it bring it
But we ain't singin, we drama
Fuck you and your mama
We kill all you motherfuckers
Now when I came out I you it was just about Biggie
Then everybody had to open mouth with a motherfuckin opinion
Well this how we do this
Mobb Deep, Fuck Biggie, Fuck Bad Boy as a staff record label
and as a crew
And if you be down with Bad Boy; then fuck you too
Chino XL, you too
All you motherfuckers, you too

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

You niggaz laugh cause our staff got, guns in motherfuckers belts
You know how it is when we drop records felt
You niggaz feel it, we the realest
FUCK 'EM, we Bad Boy