Karaoké Hit 'Em Up 2Pac & Outlawz

Sucka-ass

That's why I fucked yo' bitch

You fat motherfucka

West Side, Bad Boy killas

You know who the realest is

Niggas we bring it too

First off fuck your bitch and the clique you claim

Westside when we ride come equipped with game

You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife

We bust on Bad Boys niggas fucked for life

Plus Puffy tryna see me weak hearts I rip

Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia is some mark-ass bitches

We keep on comin' while we runnin' for your jewels

Steady gunnin' keep on bustin' at them fools, you know the rules

Lil' Caesar go ask your homie how I'll leave ya

Cut your young-ass up leave you in pieces

Now be deceased

Lil' Kim don't fuck around with real G's

Quick to snatch yo' ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace

I'll let them niggas know it's on for life

Don't let the Westside ride tonight ah, ah

Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed

Fuck with me and get yo' caps peeled you know

See, grab your Glocks when you see Tupac

Call the cops when you see Tupac, huh

Who shot me but you punks didn't finish

Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace

Nigga I hit 'em up

Check this out you motherfuckers know what time it is

I don't even know why I'm on this track

Y'all niggas ain't even on my level

I'ma let my lil' homies ride on you bitch-made ass Bad Boy bitches feel it

Get out the way yo

Get out the way yo

Biggie Smalls just got dropped

Little Mu' pass the Mac and let me hit him in his back

Frank White needs to get spanked right for settin' traps

Little accident murderer and I ain't never heard of ya

Poisonous gats attack when I'm servin' ya

Spank ya shank ya whole style when I gank

Guard your rank 'cos I'ma slam your ass in the paint

Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm runnin' through nigga

And I'm smokin' Junior Mafia in front of you nigga

With the ready power tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer

Your clout pettysour

I push packages every hour

I hit 'em up

Grab your Glocks when you see Tupac

Call the cops when you see Tupac, huh

Who shot me but you punks didn't finish

Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace

Nigga we hit 'em up

Peep how we do it keep it real as penitentiary steel

This ain't no freestyle battle

All you niggas gettin' killed with your mouths open

Tryna come up off of me you in the clouds hopin'

Smokin' dope it's like a sherm high

Niggas think they learned to fly

But they burn motherfucker you deserve to die

Talkin' 'bout you gettin' money but it's funny to me

All you niggas livin' bummy while you fuckin' with me

I'm a self-made millionaire

Thug livin' out of prison pistols in the air ah, ah

Biggie remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch

And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house

Now it's all about Versace you copied my style

Five shots couldn't drop me

I took it and smiled

Now I'm back to set the record straight

With my AK I'm still the thug that you love to hate

Motherfucker

I'm from N-E-W Jers' where plenty of murders occurs

No points or commas we bring the drama to all you herbs

Now go check the scenario

Lil' Cease

I'll bring you fake G's to your knees coppin' pleas in de Janeiro

Little Kim is you coked up or doped up

Get your little Junior

Whopper click smoked up

What the fuck is you stupid

I take money crash and mash through Brooklyn

With my click lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block

With a fifteen-shot cocked Glock to your knot

Outlaw Mafia clique movin' up another notch

And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped

All your fake-ass East Coast props brainstormed and locked

You's a beat biter a Pac style taker

I'll tell you to your face you ain't shit but a faker

Softer than Alizé with a chaser

'Bout to get murdered for the paper E.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caper

Like a loc with Little Ceas' in a choke

Gun totin' smoke

We ain't no motherfuckin' joke

Thug Life niggas better be knowin'

We approachin' in the wide open gun smokin'

No need for hopin' it's a battle lost

I got 'em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin' off

Nigga I hit 'em up

Now you tell me who won

I see them, they run

They don't wanna see us

Whole Junior Mafia clique dressin' up tryna be us

How the fuck they gonna be the mob

When we always on our job

We millionaires

Killin' ain't fair but somebody gotta do it

Oh yeah Mobb Deep you wanna fuck with us

You little young-ass motherfuckers

Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or somethin'

You're fuckin' with me nigga

You fuck around and have a seizure or a heart attack

You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up

This is how we do it on our side

Any of you niggas from New York that wanna bring it, bring it

But we ain't singin' we bringin' drama

Fuck you and yo' motherfuckin' mama

We gon' kill all you motherfuckers

Now when I came out I told you it was about Biggie

Then everybody had to open their mouth with a motherfuckin' opinion

Well this is how we gonna do this

Fuck Mobb Deep, Fuck Biggie

Fuck Bad Boy as a staff record label and as a motherfuckin' crew

And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy

Then fuck you too

Chino XL, fuck you too

All you motherfuckers fuck you too

All of y'all motherfuckers fuck you die slow

Motherfucker my fourty-four make sho' all y'all kids don't grow

You motherfuckers can't be us or see us

We motherfuckin'

Thug Life ridas

Westside 'till we die

Out here in California nigga we warned ya

We'll bomb on you motherfuckers

We do our job

You think you mob Nigga we the motherfuckin' mob

Ain't nothin' but killas

And the real niggas all you motherfuckers feel us

Our shit goes triple and four-quadruple

You niggas laugh 'cos our staff got guns under they motherfuckas belts

You know how it is when we drop records they felt

You niggas can't feel it we the realest

Fuck 'em

We Bad Boy killas