Luyện nghe bài hát Hit Em Up Part 2

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

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

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

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

let them niggas know it's on for life
Don't let the west side the night
Bad murdered on wax and kill
with me and get your caps peeled
You what you see

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm a self millionaire thug, livin' 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, all about Versace, you copied my style
Five shots couldn't drop me, I it and smiled
Now, I'm to set the record 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 of murder 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 pleas with these

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

fifteen shot, cocked glock 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 nothing shit but a faker
So the alazhay with a chaser
'Bout to get murdered for the
E D I, I mean the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with Ceas' in a choke
smoke, we ain't no muthafuckin' joke

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

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