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    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 copy these
    And 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 the 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 hit the fuckin' block
    I'll run at you nigga
    And I'll smoke the Junior M.A.F.I.A.
    In front of you nigga
    With the ready power
    Ducked in my guess
    Under my Eddie Bower
    You clothes petty sour
    I push bomb 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 murder
    Or visit to the hospital
    I can't wait
    Meet up with all you bitches
    In the streets
    So I can leave all you cowards
    Covered in white sheets
    When we hit 'em up

    Verse 6

    [Storm]

    If you a big bad muthafucka
    Come step to this
    I got your life in the hit
    And one hidden in the clip
    Who wanna test this
    To the 1 2 3
    Bound to get they ass
    Put under
    Cause the Storm
    Is bringin' nothin' but thunder
    Who's the bomb nigga
    Quick to feel that
    Kill that sorry nigga
    Situation
    Naw
    Naw
    Who's the bigger trigger
    I approached the two g's
    You though I was easy
    Now you beggin' on your knees
    Pleasey

    Comente
    user 300 caracteres restantes. Enviar

    Todas as letras de Tupac Shakur

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