2Pac — Hit Em Up Live

[Spoken Word Intro] Nigga we are... Yeah Hey, yo, I think y'all gonna like this next song When this song drop, I want all the West Coast people to give up some love when this song come on. They tried to boo this song. They don't wanna play my song, but they wanna play fat boy all damn day [Intro] What, c'mon, c'mon (Take money) C'mon, c'mon (Take money) C'mon, c'mon What's up nigga? [Verse 1] First off, fuck yo' 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 M.A.F.I.A. 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 Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed Fuck with me and get yo' caps peeled, you know My niggas say [Chorus] See, grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac Call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh Who shot me? But you punks didn't finish Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, I hit 'em up! (Take money) (Take money) (Take money) West Coast for life [Verse 2] Get out the way yo, get out the way yo Biggie Smalls just got shot Little Moo', 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 'cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm runnin' through, nigga And I'm smokin' Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, nigga With the ready power Tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer Your clout petty/sour I push packages every hour Hit 'em up! [Chorus] Oh, call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh Who shot me? But you punks didn't finish Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, we hit 'em up! [Verse 3] 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' about 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 (Ha, ha) 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, we hit 'em up! [Verse 4] I'm from N-E-W Jers' where plenty of murders occurs No points or commas, we bring 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 15-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 [Verse 5] 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 Alize with a chaser About 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 We them 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, we hit 'em up! [Chorus] We hit him up Call the cops when you see 2Pac Say what? (Come on with the next shit) Call the cops when you see 2Pac Who shot me? But you punks didn't finish Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, we hit 'em up!