Luyện nghe bài hát Hit Em Up Part 2

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

First off, fuck your bitch and the click you
West when we ride, come 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 leave yah
Cut young ass up, see yah in pieces, now be deceased
Little Kim, don't with real ass G's
Quick to snatch ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace

I'll let niggas know it's on for life
let the west side ride the night
Bad boys on wax and kill
Fuck with me and get your caps
You know you see

Grab glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the when 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

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

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

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

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

Peep how we do it, keep it real, penitentiary steel
This no freestyle battle, all you niggas getting killed
your mouths open, tryin' to come up off of me
You and the clouds hoping dope

It's like a Shermine, niggas they learned to fly
But they 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, out of prison, pistols in the air
Biggie, remember I use to let you sleep on the couch
And beg the bitch to let you sleep in the

Now, it's all Versace, you copied my style
Five 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 that you 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, Little
I'll bring you fake G's to yah knees copin' 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 through
With my click looting, shooting, and your block

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

You'se a B writer, Pac taker
I'll tell you to face, you ain't shit but a faker
So fill the alazhay a chaser
to get murdered for the paper
E D I, I post the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with little in a choke
Toting smoke, we no muthafuckin' joke

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

Who shot me, but your punks finish
Now, you to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit 'em up