Luyện nghe bài hát Hit Em Up Part 2

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

First off, fuck 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, fuck for life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a B writer, Pac style 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 mean post the of the caper
Like a loc, with little Ceas' in a
Toting smoke, we ain't no joke

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

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