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Tupac & Biggie ft. Outlawz - Runnin (Original)

99,

04:52,

2008-05-25 21:12:16

Description: Lyrics: One time, one time nigga one time! (Where?) Runnin' from the police (Yeah I know what you mean) No matter what I do, they got a nigga still runnin' from the police (Put them (More) Lyrics: One time, one time nigga one time! (Where?) Runnin' from the police (Yeah I know what you mean) No matter what I do, they got a nigga still runnin' from the police (Put them motherfuckin Nike's on tight and get ghost y'all) [Dramacydal] I ain't got nuttin on my mind, but gettin in some trouble Lickin shots to they block leavin bloody blood puddles for some ridah delight, now we in a gunfight I can shoot the gauge pebbles at the devils or die tonight It's on me, but if I die bury me a motherfuckin G A open casket on them bastards so they all remember me With my vest on my chest, my tools and my piece Thug Life motherfucker gotta me runnin' from the police Nigga, you know that's true Catch a nigga like K-Dog, chillin wit a crew Every damn day parlay with my glass of Re The O.J. and it's all OK 'til that fuckin fake cop got to play the man Ran me down the block with my glass in my hand Damn, I hope it don't spill Nigga chill, shit is real cock back my steel Still runnin' from the police I gets no sleep I got you peepin in my window while I'm smokin indo But I ain't no motherfuckin track star, pig's got a Jeep like Big Mouth, runnin through motherfucker's backyards So I, grabs my piece before I flee And instead of me runnin', these bitches is runnin' from me Lick shots hits spots off on my piece Cause a nigga like Big Mouth is through runnin' from the police [Interlude: Buju Banton] I bust off! What about the time they pull me from the Bronco lay, they tried to cock me, but them can't gun store When a batty bwoy do it from the mob Ahh, pull up your pants then you screw an left squad Look around, look around, punk police While gwan man doesn't a come but a bad boy test Look around, look around, punk police Me hafta blast back, cause de blast is best [Stretch] Yo I was, schemin and fiendin for loots and took the crooked route to, ghetto fame I felt the pains and now I run the game The insane brain, cold gettin fly like a plane on them suckers with my nigga Biggie Smalls causin ruckus [Notorious B.I.G.] Check it, I grew up a fuckin screw-up Got introduced to the game, got a ounce and fuckin blew up Choppin rocks overnight The nigga Biggie Smalls tryin to turn into the black Frank White [Stretch] And we got the workers choppin rock, Benz by the flock And we gettin it, the dirty cops are jealous so they sweatin it I'm lettin off smoke, hope they don't play me for no joke and provoke the homicide, so just let the drama slide We keepin it real, fuck how you feel, Biggie pass the steel Let's serve these motherfuckers slugs as a fuckin meal [Notorious B.I.G.] We had to grow dreads to change our description Two cops is on the milk box missin Show they toes you know they got stepped on A fist full of bullets a chest full of Teflon Run from the police picture that, nigga I'm too fat I fuck around and catch a asthma attack (*heavy breathing*) That's why I bust back, it don't phase me When he drop, take his glock, and I'm Swayze Celebrate my escape, sold the glock, bought some weight Laid back, I got some money to make, motherfucker [Interlude: Buju Banton] Now it's war, me tryin to sell, runnin from the punk po-lice They try to cock me, but them can't gun store What about they come to hold up me North Pulled up the park, I left school and left buck Look around, look around, punk police Was about to blast with ya gun but you can't stop me Look around, look around, punk police Me haf to blast back, cause blast back best [2Pac] They got me runnin' from the five-oh duckin and dodgin in my survival The Benzo and I let off with my nine, hoe I'm movin swifter than the next nigga, no time for sex Cause in my mind all I wonder is who's next Nigga, my homey slipped and now he pays the price He did a driveby, sixteen, now he's doin triple life Tell me is it me or my upbringin, I spit that thug shit Nigga motherfuck singin, I hope you got your Timberlands on tight, cause I ain't givin up I'd rather duck these motherfuckers all night I'm runnin' through the projects, beyotch They'll never catch me Cause I'm loc'd and trigger happy on the, sneotch Don't say you never heard of me, til they murder me, I'm a legend Do Thug Niggas go to heaven? I'm rollin with the thorough heads We gettin ghost on them hoes and yo I got no love for the five-oh I'm runnin' from the police (Less)

Channel: youtube

Tags: 2pac Big Biggie dirty Notorious original Outlawz Runnin Running Tupac

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2PAC:AGAINSTA ALL ODDS(DISSES NAS,DIDDY,MOBB DEEP,ETC.)

25,

04:45,

2008-04-22 09:11:13

Description: (One love, one love, one thug One nation, twenty-one gun salute) I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed To (More) (One love, one love, one thug One nation, twenty-one gun salute) I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed To the truest shit I ever spoke Twenty-one gun salute, dressed in fatigue, black jeans and boots Disappeared in the crowd, all you seen was troops This little nigga named Nas thinks he live like me Talkin bout he left the hospital took five like me You living fantasies, nigga I reject your deposit We shook Dre punk ass, now we out of the closet Mobb Deep wonder why nigga blowed them out Next time grown folks talk, nigga close your mouth Peep me, I take this war shit deeply Done seen too many real players fall to let these bitch niggas beat me Puffy lets be honest you a punk or you will see me with gloves Remember that shit you said to Vibe about me bein a thug You can tell the people you roll with whatever you want But you and I know what's going on Payback, I knew you bitch niggas from way back Witness me strapped with Macs, knew I wouldn't play that All you old rappers trying to advance It's all over now, take it like a man Niggas lookin like Larry Holmes, flabby and sick Tryin to player hate on my shit, you eat a fat dick Let it be known this is how you made me Lovin how I got you niggas crazy Against all odds Hopin my thug motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed To the truest shit I ever spoke, against all odds Hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote I heard he was light skinned, stocky with a Haitian accent Jewelery, fast cars and he's known for flashing (What's his name???) Listen while I take you back (NIGGA SAY HIS NAME!) and lace this rap A real live tale about a snitch named Haitian Jack Knew he was workin for the feds, same crime, different trials Nigga, picture what he said, and did I mention Promised a payback, Jimmy Henchman, in due time I know you bitch niggas is listenin, The World Is Mine Set me up, wet me up, niggas stuck me up Heard the guns bust but you tricks never shut me up Touch one of mine on everything I own I'll destroy everything you touch, play the game nigga All out warfare, eye for eye Last words to a bitch nigga, "WHY YOU LIE?!?" Now you gotta watch your back, now watch your front Here we come, gunshots too tut, now you stuck Fuck the rap game, nigga this M-O-B So believe me we enemies, I go against all odds I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed To the truest shit I ever spoke I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds Puffy gettin robbed like a bitch, to hide the fact he did some shit he shouldn't have did, so we ride em for that And that nigga that was down for me, restin dead Switch sides, guess his new friends wanted him dead Probably be murdered for the shit that I said I bring the real, be a legend, breathin or dead Lord listen to me God don't like ugly, It Was Written Hey Nas, your whole damn style is bitten You heard my melody, read about my life in the papers All my run-ins with authorities, felonious capers Now you wanna live my life, so what's a hasa Nas? Niggas that don't rhyme right, you've seen too many movies Load em up against the wall, close his eyes Since you lie you die, GOODBYE Let the real live niggas hear the truth from me What would you do if you was me nigga Against all odds I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed To the truest shit I ever spoke [repeat] Against all odds [Twenty-one gun salute] One love to my true thug niggas (Outlaw! Outlaw! Outlaw!) Twenty-one gun salute to my niggas that die in the line of duty Representin to the fullest bein soldiers with military minds that play the rules of the game, twenty-one gun salute I salute you my niggas, stay strong I ride for you, I rhyme for you, I roll for you, it's all for you To all you bitch made niggas, I'm comin for you Against all odds, I don't care who the fuck you is, nigga You touch me I'm at you I know you motherfuckers think that I forgot Hell no I ain't forgot nigga I just remember what you told me You said don't go to war unless I got my money behind me Aight, I got my money right here, now I want war (Less)

Channel: youtube

Tags: 2pac Against All Bad beef Biggie Boy California Death Deep Diddy diss eastcoast Mobb Nas New Odds Row westcoast York

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2Pac - Hit 'Em Up [Uncensored] [High Quality]

27,

04:29,

2008-04-22 09:11:13

Description: 2pac - Hit 'em Up Lyrics [Featuring Outlawz] Intro: Tupac I ain't got no motherfuckin friends That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker (take money) West side!! Bad Boy (More) 2pac - Hit 'em Up Lyrics [Featuring Outlawz] Intro: Tupac I ain't got no motherfuckin friends That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker (take money) West side!! Bad Boy killers (take money) You know the realest is niggaz (take money) We bring it to you (take money) Verse One: Tupac First off, fuck your bitch in the clit you claim West side when we ride come equipped with game You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife We bust on Bad Boy niggaz fucked for life Plus Puffy tryin ta see me weak hearts I rip Biggie Smallz and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark ass bitches We keep on comin' while we runnin for ya jewels steady gunnin, keep on bustin at the fools, you know the rules Little Ceaser, go ask ya homie how I 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 tha street, so fuck peace I let them niggas know it's on for life So let the West side ride tonight hahahah Bad Boy murdered on wax, and killed Fuck wit' me and get ya caps peeled, you know ... see ... Chorus: Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace NIGGA, I hit em' up... Interlude: Tupac Check this out, you muthafuckas know what time it is I don't even know why I'm on this track ya'll nigguz ain't even on my level I'ma let my little homies ride on you bitch made-ass bad boy bitches -- deal with it!! Verse Two: Get out the way yo, get out the way yo Biggie Smallz just got dropped Little Moo, pass the Mac, and let me hit him in his back Frank White need to get spanked right, for settin tracks little accident murderer, and I ain't never heard-a ya Poisinous gats attack when I'm servin ya Spank the shank ya whole style when I dank Guard your rank, cause I'ma slam you in the pavement Puffy weaker that a fuckin rocka wanna do, nigga and, I'll smoke ya junior mafia in front of you, nigga With the ready power tuckin my Guess under my Eddie Bauer ya clout, pretty sour I get packages every hour and hit em up Chorus Verse Three: Tupac Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel this aint no freestyle battle, all you niggaz gettin killed with ya mouths open tryin to come up offa me, you in the clouds hoping smokin dope it's like a sherm high Niggaz think they learned to fly But they burned muthafucka, you deserve to die Talkin bout you gettin money, but its funny to me All you niggaz living bummy, while you fuckin' wit me I'm a self made milionare Thug Livin out a prison, pistols in the air, hahaha Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on my couch and beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house, ahh Now its all about Versacci, you copied my style Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it, and smiled Now I'm bout to set the record straight, with my AK I'm still the thug you love to hate Motherfucker, I hit em up Verse Four: I'm from N-E-W Jerz, where plenty murders occur No points to be calmer, we bringin drama to all you heards Knuckle check the scenario, Little Cease I bring you fake G's to your knees Coppin pleas cuz this ain't your area Lil Kim, is you coked up, or doped up? Get ya lil 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 ya block with 15 shots cock glock to your knot Outlaw mafia click movin up another notch And you bast stops squaws get mopped and dropped All your fake-ass east coast props brainstormed and locked Verse Four: Youse a, beat biter, a Pac style taker I'll tell you to ya face you aint shit but a faker Softer than Alize with a chaser Bout to get murdered for the paper Idi Amin approach the scene Write a caper, like a loc, with little ceaser in a choke hold Totin smoke, we aint no muthafuckin joke Thug Life, niggaz betta be knowin, we approchin in the wide open, guns smokin no need for hopin its a battle lost, I got across Soon as the funk was poppin off Nigga I hit em up (Less)

Channel: youtube

Tags: 'Em 2Pac Em Hit Music Tupac Uncensored Up Video

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2PAC:AGAINSTA ALL ODDS(DISSES NAS,DIDDY,MOBB DEEP,ETC.)

10,

04:45,

2007-08-14 09:34:41

Description: (One love, one love, one thug One nation, twenty-one gun salute) I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed (More) (One love, one love, one thug One nation, twenty-one gun salute) I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed To the truest shit I ever spoke Twenty-one gun salute, dressed in fatigue, black jeans and boots Disappeared in the crowd, all you seen was troops This little nigga named Nas thinks he live like me Talkin bout he left the hospital took five like me You living fantasies, nigga I reject your deposit We shook Dre punk ass, now we out of the closet Mobb Deep wonder why nigga blowed them out Next time grown folks talk, nigga close your mouth Peep me, I take this war shit deeply Done seen too many real players fall to let these bitch niggas beat me Puffy lets be honest you a punk or you will see me with gloves Remember that shit you said to Vibe about me bein a thug You can tell the people you roll with whatever you want But you and I know what's going on Payback, I knew you bitch niggas from way back Witness me strapped with Macs, knew I wouldn't play that All you old rappers trying to advance It's all over now, take it like a man Niggas lookin like Larry Holmes, flabby and sick Tryin to player hate on my shit, you eat a fat dick Let it be known this is how you made me Lovin how I got you niggas crazy Against all odds Hopin my thug motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed To the truest shit I ever spoke, against all odds Hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote I heard he was light skinned, stocky with a Haitian accent Jewelery, fast cars and he's known for flashing (What's his name???) Listen while I take you back (NIGGA SAY HIS NAME!) and lace this rap A real live tale about a snitch named Haitian Jack Knew he was workin for the feds, same crime, different trials Nigga, picture what he said, and did I mention Promised a payback, Jimmy Henchman, in due time I know you bitch niggas is listenin, The World Is Mine Set me up, wet me up, niggas stuck me up Heard the guns bust but you tricks never shut me up Touch one of mine on everything I own I'll destroy everything you touch, play the game nigga All out warfare, eye for eye Last words to a bitch nigga, "WHY YOU LIE?!?" Now you gotta watch your back, now watch your front Here we come, gunshots too tut, now you stuck Fuck the rap game, nigga this M-O-B So believe me we enemies, I go against all odds I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed To the truest shit I ever spoke I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds Puffy gettin robbed like a bitch, to hide the fact he did some shit he shouldn't have did, so we ride em for that And that nigga that was down for me, restin dead Switch sides, guess his new friends wanted him dead Probably be murdered for the shit that I said I bring the real, be a legend, breathin or dead Lord listen to me God don't like ugly, It Was Written Hey Nas, your whole damn style is bitten You heard my melody, read about my life in the papers All my run-ins with authorities, felonious capers Now you wanna live my life, so what's a hasa Nas? Niggas that don't rhyme right, you've seen too many movies Load em up against the wall, close his eyes Since you lie you die, GOODBYE Let the real live niggas hear the truth from me What would you do if you was me nigga Against all odds I'm hopin my true motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin blowed To the truest shit I ever spoke [repeat] Against all odds [Twenty-one gun salute] One love to my true thug niggas (Outlaw! Outlaw! Outlaw!) Twenty-one gun salute to my niggas that die in the line of duty Representin to the fullest bein soldiers with military minds that play the rules of the game, twenty-one gun salute I salute you my niggas, stay strong I ride for you, I rhyme for you, I roll for you, it's all for you To all you bitch made niggas, I'm comin for you Against all odds, I don't care who the fuck you is, nigga You touch me I'm at you I know you motherfuckers think that I forgot Hell no I ain't forgot nigga I just remember what you told me You said don't go to war unless I got my money behind me Aight, I got my money right here, now I want war (Less)

Channel: youtube

Tags: 2pac Against All Bad beef Biggie Boy California Death Deep Diddy diss eastcoast Mobb Nas New Odds Row westcoast York

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2Pac - Hit 'Em Up [Uncensored] [High Quality]

16,

04:29,

2007-08-17 13:09:10

Description: 2pac - Hit 'em Up Lyrics [Featuring Outlawz] Intro: Tupac I ain't got no motherfuckin friends That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker (take money) West side!! (More) 2pac - Hit 'em Up Lyrics [Featuring Outlawz] Intro: Tupac I ain't got no motherfuckin friends That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker (take money) West side!! Bad Boy killers (take money) You know the realest is niggaz (take money) We bring it to you (take money) Verse One: Tupac First off, fuck your bitch in the clit you claim West side when we ride come equipped with game You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife We bust on Bad Boy niggaz fucked for life Plus Puffy tryin ta see me weak hearts I rip Biggie Smallz and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark ass bitches We keep on comin' while we runnin for ya jewels steady gunnin, keep on bustin at the fools, you know the rules Little Ceaser, go ask ya homie how I 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 tha street, so fuck peace I let them niggas know it's on for life So let the West side ride tonight hahahah Bad Boy murdered on wax, and killed Fuck wit' me and get ya caps peeled, you know ... see ... Chorus: Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace NIGGA, I hit em' up... Interlude: Tupac Check this out, you muthafuckas know what time it is I don't even know why I'm on this track ya'll nigguz ain't even on my level I'ma let my little homies ride on you bitch made-ass bad boy bitches -- deal with it!! Verse Two: Get out the way yo, get out the way yo Biggie Smallz just got dropped Little Moo, pass the Mac, and let me hit him in his back Frank White need to get spanked right, for settin tracks little accident murderer, and I ain't never heard-a ya Poisinous gats attack when I'm servin ya Spank the shank ya whole style when I dank Guard your rank, cause I'ma slam you in the pavement Puffy weaker that a fuckin rocka wanna do, nigga and, I'll smoke ya junior mafia in front of you, nigga With the ready power tuckin my Guess under my Eddie Bauer ya clout, pretty sour I get packages every hour and hit em up Chorus Verse Three: Tupac Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel this aint no freestyle battle, all you niggaz gettin killed with ya mouths open tryin to come up offa me, you in the clouds hoping smokin dope it's like a sherm high Niggaz think they learned to fly But they burned muthafucka, you deserve to die Talkin bout you gettin money, but its funny to me All you niggaz living bummy, while you fuckin' wit me I'm a self made milionare Thug Livin out a prison, pistols in the air, hahaha Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on my couch and beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house, ahh Now its all about Versacci, you copied my style Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it, and smiled Now I'm bout to set the record straight, with my AK I'm still the thug you love to hate Motherfucker, I hit em up Verse Four: I'm from N-E-W Jerz, where plenty murders occur No points to be calmer, we bringin drama to all you heards Knuckle check the scenario, Little Cease I bring you fake G's to your knees Coppin pleas cuz this ain't your area Lil Kim, is you coked up, or doped up? Get ya lil 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 ya block with 15 shots cock glock to your knot Outlaw mafia click movin up another notch And you bast stops squaws get mopped and dropped All your fake-ass east coast props brainstormed and locked Verse Four: Youse a, beat biter, a Pac style taker I'll tell you to ya face you aint shit but a faker Softer than Alize with a chaser Bout to get murdered for the paper Idi Amin approach the scene Write a caper, like a loc, with little ceaser in a choke hold Totin smoke, we aint no muthafuckin joke Thug Life, niggaz betta be knowin, we approchin in the wide open, guns smokin no need for hopin its a battle lost, I got across Soon as the funk was poppin off Nigga I hit em up (Less)

Channel: youtube

Tags: 'Em 2Pac Em Hit Music Tupac Uncensored Up Video

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Tupac Shakur - Hit Em' Up

188,

04:31,

2008-04-18 11:20:54

Description: Tupac Shakur - Hit Em' Up Intro: Tupac I ain't got no motherfuckin friends That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker (More) Tupac Shakur - Hit Em' Up Intro: Tupac I ain't got no motherfuckin friends That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker (take money) West side!! Bad Boy killers (take money) You know the realest is niggaz (take money) We bring it to you (take money) Verse One: Tupac First off, fuck your bitch in the clit you claim West side when we ride come equipped with game You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife We bust on Bad Boy niggaz fucked for life Plus Puffy tryin ta see me weak hearts I rip Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark ass bitches We keep on comin' while we runnin for ya jewels steady gunnin, keep on bustin at the fools, you know the rules Little Ceaser, go ask ya homie how I 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 tha street, so fuck peace I let them niggas know it's on for life So let the West side ride tonight hahahah Bad Boy murdered on wax, and killed Fuck wit' me and get ya caps peeled, you know ... see ... Chorus: Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uhh Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace NIGGA, I hit em' up... Interlude: Tupac Check this out, you muthafuckas know what time it is I don't even know why I'm on this track ya'll nigguz ain't even on my level I'ma let my little homies ride on you bitch made-ass bad boy bitches -- deal with it!! Verse Two: Get out the way yo, get out the way yo Biggie Small just got dropped Little Moo, pass the Mac, and let me hit him in his back Frank White need to get spanked right, for settin tracks little accident murderer, and I ain't never heard-a ya Poisinous gats attack when I'm servin ya Spank the shank ya whole style when I dank Guard your rank, cause I'ma slam you in the pavement Puffy weaker that a fuckin rocka wanna do, nigga and, I'll smoke ya junior mafia in front of you, nigga With the ready power tuckin my Guess under my Eddie Bauer ya clout, pretty sour I get packages every hour and hit em up Chorus Verse Three: Tupac Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel this aint no freestyle battle, all you niggaz gettin killed with ya mouths open tryin to come up offa me, you in the clouds hoping smokin dope it's like a sherm high Niggaz think they learned to fly But they burned muthafucka, you deserve to die Talkin bout you gettin money, but its funny to me All you niggaz living bummy, while you fuckin' wit me I'm a self made milionare Thug Livin out a prison, pistols in the air, hahaha Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on my couch and beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house, ahh Now its all about Versacci, you copied my style Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it, and smiled Now I'm bout to set the record straight, with my AK I'm still the thug you love to hate Motherfucker, I hit em up Verse Four: I'm from N-E-W Jerz, where plenty murders occur No points to be calmer, we bringin drama to all you herbs Knuckle check the scenario, Little Cease I bring you fake G's to your knees Coppin pleas cuz this ain't your area Lil Kim, is you coked up, or doped up? Get ya lil 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 ya block with 15 shots cock glock to your knot Outlaw mafia click movin up another notch And you bast stops squaws get mopped and dropped All your fake-ass east coast props brainstormed and locked Verse Five: Youse a, beat biter, a Pac style taker I'll tell you to ya face you aint shit but a faker Softer than Alize with a chaser Bout to get murdered for the paper Idi Amin approach the scene Write a caper, like a loc, with little ceaser in a choke hold Totin smoke, we aint no muthafuckin joke Thug Life, niggaz betta be knowin, we approchin in the wide open, guns smokin no need for hopin its a battle lost, I got across Soon as the funk was poppin off Nigga I hit em up Outro: Tupac Now you tell me who won I see them, they run They don't wanna see us Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. click dressin up tryin ta 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 niggaz got sickle cell or somethin? You fuckin with me nigga you fuck around and have a seizure or a heart-attack You better back the fuck up, fore you get smacked the fuck up That's how we do it on our side Any of you niggaz from New York that wanna bring it bring it But we ain't singin, we bringin drama Fuck you and your motherfuckin mama We gonna kill all you motherfuckers Now when I came out I told you it was just about Biggie Then everybody had to open their mouth with a motherfuckin opinion Well this how we gonna do this Fuck Mobb Deep Fuck Biggie Fuck Bad Boys as a staff record label and as a motherfuckin crew And if you wanna be down with Bad Boyz Then fuck you too Chino XL, fuck you too All you motherfuckers, fuck you too (take money) (take money) Alla y'all motherfuckers, fuck you die slow motherfucker My fo'-fo' make sure all y'all kids don't grow You motherfuckers can't be us or see us We the motherfuckin Thug Life ridahs West side till we die! Out here in California we warn ya we'll bomb on you motherfuckers We do our job You think you mob, nigga we the motherfuckin mob Ain't nuttin but killers and the real niggaz All you motherfuckers feel us Our shit's going triple and four-quadruple (take money) You niggaz blast as our staff got guns at they motherfuckers back, you know how it is When we drop records they feel it You niggaz can't feel it We the realest, FUCK EM, we Bad Boy killin *echoes* (Less)

Channel: dailymotion

Tags: 2pac tupac shakur hit em up outlawz rap us weastcoat

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