Luyện nghe bài hát Hit Em Up Part 2

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

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

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

You know the rules, Little Ceasar go ask you homie how leave yah
Cut your young ass up, see yah in pieces, now be
Little Kim, don't fuck with ass G's
to snatch your ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace

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

Grab your glocks when you see
Call the when you see 2Pac
Who shot me, but your punks 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 right for setting up traps

Little accident murderers and I never heard of yah
Poise less gats when I'm serving yah
Spank the shank, your style when I gank
Guard your rank, 'cause, I'ma slam your ass in a

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

Call the cops you see 2Pac
Who shot me, but your 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
This ain't no battle, all you niggas getting killed
With your mouths open, tryin' to up off of me
You and the clouds hoping dope

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

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

Now, it's all about Versace, you my style
Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and
Now, I'm back to set the straight with my AK
I'm still the thug you love to hate, muthafucka, I'll hit 'em up

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

Little Kim is yah, up or doped up
Get your little Whopper click smoked up
the fuck? Is you stupid? Take money
Crash and mash Brooklyn
With my click looting, shooting, and your block

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

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

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

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