Luyện nghe bài hát Hit Em Up Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

your glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the when you see 2Pac
Who shot me, but your punks 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
move pacs the mac and let me hit 'em in his back
Frank White needs to get right for setting up traps

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

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

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

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

It's like a Shermine, niggas think they to fly
But they muthafucka you deserve to die
about you getting money, but it's funny to me
All you niggas living bummy, while you fucking 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 to let you sleep in the house

Now, it's all about Versace, you copied my
Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and
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 New Jers, where plenty of murder occurs
No points to come, we bring drama to all you
Now go check the scenerio, Little
I'll bring you fake G's to yah knees copin' pleas these

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

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

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

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

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