Luyện nghe bài hát Hit Em Up Part 2

Well, on, come on, take money
on, come on, take money
Come on, come on, wassup

First off, your bitch and the click you claim
West side when we ride, equipped with game
You to be a playa but, I fucked your wife
We bust on bad boys, niggas for life

Plus, Puffy to see me weak, hearts I rip
Biggie smalls and junior mafia, some ass bitches
We keep on coming while we running for yah
Steady gunning keep on busting at fools

You know the rules, Little Ceasar go ask you homie how I'll yah
Cut young ass up, see yah in pieces, now be deceased
Little Kim, fuck with real ass G's
Quick to your ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace

I'll let them niggas know it's on for
Don't let the west side the night
Bad boys on wax and kill
Fuck with me and get your peeled
You know you see

your glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see
Who shot me, but punks didn't finish
Now, you to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit 'em up

Get out the way yo, get out the way, yo
Biggie Smalls just got
move pacs the mac and let me hit 'em in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked for setting up traps

Little accident and I ain't never heard of yah
Poise less gats when I'm serving yah
the shank, your whole style when I gank
Guard your rank, 'cause, I'ma slam ass in a pang

Puffy weaker than a fuckin' block, I'm running through
And I'm smoking mafia in front of yah nigga
With the ready power in my guess
Under my EddieBower, tour petty sour
I packages every hour, I hit 'em up

Call the cops when you see
Who shot me, but punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the of a menace
Nigga, I hit 'em up

Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary
ain't no freestyle battle, all you niggas getting killed
With mouths open, tryin' to come up off of me
You and the clouds smoking dope

It's like a Shermine, niggas think learned to fly
But burn muthafucka you deserve to die
Talking about you getting money, but funny to me
All you niggas living bummy, you fucking with me

I'm a self made millionaire thug, livin' out of prison, in the air
Biggie, remember when I use to let you sleep on the
And beg the to let you sleep in the house

Now, it's all Versace, you copied my style
Five shots drop me, I took it and smiled
Now, I'm back to set the straight with my AK
I'm the thug that you love to hate, muthafucka, I'll hit 'em up

I'm from New Jers, where plenty of occurs
No to come, we bring drama to all you herds
Now go check the scenerio, Ceas'
bring you fake G's to yah knees copin' pleas with these

Little Kim is yah, choked up or up
Get your little Junior click smoked up
What the fuck? Is you stupid? money
Crash and mash through
With my looting, shooting, and polluting your block

With fifteen shot, glock to your knot
mafia click moving up another notch
And your pop stars and get mopped and dropped
And all your fake ass East props, brainstormed and locked

You'se a B writer, Pac style
tell you to face, you ain't nothing shit but a faker
So fill the with a chaser
to get murdered for the paper
E D I, I mean post the of the caper
Like a loc, with little in a choke
Toting smoke, we no muthafuckin' joke

Thug life, niggas better be known, be
In the wide open, gun smoking, no need for
It's a lost, I got 'em crossed
As as the funk is bopping off, nigga, I hit 'em up

Who shot me, but punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a
Nigga, I hit 'em up