2Pac – Hit ’em Up 2

* Note: Song Not Completed *

Intro

[2Pac]

I ain’t got no muthafuckin’ friends

What y’all niggas talkin’ about

Hell yeah

I’m a do this muthafuckin’ track

(Right)

And they know exactly

Who I’m talkin’ about too

You old bitch made niggas

Verse 1

[2Pac]

Cause

Uh

Niggas talk plenty shit

So many tricks

I fucked your bitch

Cause I’m true to this

Witness the hit

You talk bad about a nigga

When I got blasted

Hope you made a little money

While the funk lasted

Heard they call you Big Poppa

Nigga how you figure

Cause to me

You’ll always be a phoney fat nigga

I can’t be copied

even wearin’ Versachi

Nigga you run or buck

Scared as fuck

If the guns would bust

Now niggas talk

I got a list

Of player haters and fakes

You bitch niggas

Gettin’ blown away

You cross-eyed

Down syndrome

Crack baby

So you and Puffy are tough

Now that’s crazy

I got your ass in my sight

Niggas dyin’ tonight

We screamin’

West Side for life

And I can’t wait

To see you niggas in traffic

Cause we gonna get ’em up

(Ha ha ha)

When you see me

You better bust

Cause I’m a hit ’em up

Chorus

[Tupac]

Grab your glocks

When you see Tupac

(Uh)

Call the cops

When you see Tupac

(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 2

[Napolean]

It’s hard to explain

This wasn’t my thang

When I was younger

Before my shit

I swear to God

I’ll make you stick

Just to make a come up

Niggas run up

Cause more murder

For the money

Got caught up

Tryin’ to make a harder record

Should have been on checked

Cause I bet you

And it’s for life

You’ll never gonna see a nigga like me

Wantin’ a battle up on T.V.

I’d rather release

Some of these

And put a slug

To you buster ass niggas

That continue to squeeze

I got some niggas

Back in Jersey

That would rather be jackin’ cars

And robbin’ bitch niggas

Like y’all for emergency

Let’s take it back

To the West Side

Them niggas

Sure gonna be ridahs

And plus we Thug Life niggas

So call us multiply

Finger on the trigger

Bitches stand and rise

But we don’t trust ’em

They might be the first

That we gonna bust up

Just label me a Bad Boy Killer

You Mobb Deep bitches

Gonna feel us

When we turn into killers

Hit ’em up

Verse 3

[E.D.I]

Now this is me

B. K.

All day

Ain’t no frontin’

Ain’t no quicker

Strictly Bad Boy killin’

Shoot that ass like a squealer

Now let this muthafucka

Top down

I’m fittin’ to drop rounds

Lettin’ these sounds

Pop and then I’m hot bound

Seein’ them shatter

Shootin’ my shit

To work a lease go

What’s up to the ridahs

In L.A.

Don’t preach on up

To the East O.

Shootin’ that so

See low

Circle

That shit don’t hurt you

Made to turn you purple

Wanna take a plane

But we enemies

To the game

Well get that ass tamed

Simple and plain

Y’all know the name

Drama

Ridahs

Through the whole night

Niggas get taught

Then we bobbin’ through

They hits slow

No need for runnin’

Cause we don’t give a fuck

Beside the funky man

We got to hit they ass

On up

Verse 4

[Hussein Fatal]

Get out the way

Yo

Get out the way

Yo

Biggie Smalls just got shot

And I’m a true eagle

Stormin’

Nigga don’t need your fat ass

In California

I catch you

On any East Coast corner

And your ass is a goner

Puffy weaker than 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

tuckin’ my gats

Under my Eddie Bower

You clothes petty sour

I push packages

Every hour

My sons past

When slappin’ nickels

On glass forties

So hurry the cash

You made on that F

Without your ass shorty

I got a team

Of simple boutable souls

With my ears like Yoda

Quick as a cobra

And never sober

Verse 5

[Khadafi]

I’m on a twelve o’ clock

Cruise to Brooklyn

And I’m lookin’

For the thirl in your barrel

Ready to get his life tookin’

So where your killers at

You fake trick

E.D.I. will leave your coward ass

Stripped

And a full clip

In your stomach

You been all year nigga

Runnin’

Poppin’ every coward

And every nigga behind you

I made it about impossible

For you niggas to escape

Another ‘mergency visit to the hospital

I can’t wait

Meet up with all you bitches

In the streets

So I can leave all you cowards

leakin in your fukin seats

When we hit ’em up

Verse 6

[Storm]

If you a big bad muthafucka

Come step to this

I got points in the clip

And ???? for the click

Who wanna test this

To the 1 2 3

Bound to get they ass

Put under

Cause the Storm

Is bringin’ nothin’ but thunder

(thats riggght)

Who’s the bomb nigga

Quick to feel that ichy finger

Situation of my nine

Who’s the bigger trigger

I approached a true G

You though I was easy

Now you beggin’ on your knees

Pleasey