Intro: zebI ain't got no motherfuckin friendsThat's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker(take money) WEESSSSSSTTTTIIIIIDE!!Bad Boy killers(take money) You know the realest is niggaz(take money) We bring it to you(take money)
Verse One:
TupacFirst off, fuck your bitch and the click you claimWESTSIDE when we ride come equipped with gameYou claim to be a player but I fucked your wifeWe bust on Bad Boy niggas fuck for lifePlus Puffy tryna see me weak hearts I ripBiggie Smallz and Junior M.A.F.I.A. some mark ass bitchesWe keep on comin' while we runnin for ya jewelssteady gunnin, keep on bustin at them fools, you know the rulesLittle Caeser, go ask ya homie how I leave yacut your young ass up, see you in pieces, now be deceasedLil Kim, don't fuck around with real G'sQuick to snatch yo' ugly ass off tha streetz, so fuck peaceI let them niggas know it's on for lifeDon't let the West side ride the night (haha)Bad Boys murdered on wax, and killedFuck wit' me and get ya caps peeled, you know, see...
Chorus:Grab ya glocks, when you see TupacCall the cops, when you see Tupac, uhhWho shot me, but ya punks didn't finishNow ya bout to feel the wrath of a menacenigga, I hit em' up...Interlude: TupacCheck this out, you muthafuckas know what time it isI don't even know why I'm on this trackya'll niggaz ain't even on my levelI'ma let my lil homies ride on youbitch made-ass bad boy bitches, deal with it!!Verse Two: FatalGet out the way yo, get out the way yoBiggie Smallz just got droppedLittle Moo, pass the Mac, and let me hit him in his backFrank White need to get spanked right, for settin trapslittle accident murderer, and I ain't never heard-a yaPoiseless gats attack when I'm servin yaspank the shank ya whole style when I gankGuard your rank, cause I'ma slam ya ass in the pangPuffy weaker than a fuckin block i'm running through niggaand, I'll smoking junior mafia in front of you, niggaWith the ready power tuckin my Gats under my Eddie Bauerya clout, petty sour I push packages every hourI hit em up
ChorusVerse Three: TupacPeep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steelthis aint no freestyle battle, all you niggaz gettinkilled with ya mouths opentryin to come up offa me, you in the clouds hopingsmokin dope it's like a shermineNiggaz think they learned to flyBut they burn muthafucka, you deserve to dieTalkin bout you gettin money but its funny to meall you niggaz livin bummy why you fuckin with meI'm a self-made millionaireThug Livin outta prison, pistols in the air,(hahaha)Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couchand beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house,(ha)Now its all about Versace, you copied my styleFive shots couldn't drop me, I took it, and smiledNow I'm bout to set the record straight, with my AKI'm still the thug you love to hateMotherfucker, I hit em up
Verse Four: KadafiI'm from N-E-W Jerz., where plenty murders occurzNo point to come, we bringin drama to all you heardzLocal check the scenario, Little Caes'I bring you fake G's to your kneesCoppin pleas to 'De Janeiro'Lil Kim, is you coked up, or doped up?Get ya lil Junior Whopper click smoked up, what the fuckis you STUPID?!?! I take money, crash and mash through Brooklynwith my click lootin, shootin and pollutin ya blockwith 15 shots cock glock to your knotOutlaw mafia click movin up another notchAnd you popstars popped get dropped and moppedAll your fake-ass east coast props brainstormed and locked
Verse Five: EdiYouse a, beat biter, a Pac style takerI'll tell it to ya face u aint nuttin shit but a faker Softer than Aliz-A with a chaserBout to get murdered for the paperE.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caperlike a loc, with little ceaser in a choke holdTotin smoke, we aint no muthafuckin jokeThug Life, niggaz betta be knowin, we approchinin the wide open, guns smokinno need for hopin its a battle lost, I got acrossSoon as the funk was bobbin offNigga I hit em up
Outro: Tupac ("take money" background riff")Now you tell me who wonI see them, they run (haha)They don't wanna see usWhole Junior M.A.F.I.A. click dressin up tryin ta be usHow the fuck they gonna be the mob when we always on our jobWe millionaires, killin ain't fair but somebody gotta do itOh yeah, Mobb Deep, you wanna fuck with us?You little young ass motherfuckersDon't one of you niggaz got sickle cell or somethin?You fuckin with me nigga you fuck aroundand have a seizure or a heart-attackYou better back the fuck up, fore you get smacked the fuck upTha's how we do it on our sideAny of you niggaz from New York that wanna bring it, bring itBut we ain't singin, we bringin dramaFuck you and your motherfuckin mamaWe gonna kill all you motherfuckersNow when I came out I told you it was just about BiggieThen everybody had to open their mouth for the motherfucker opinionWell this how we gonna do disFuck Mobb DeepFuck BiggieFuck Bad Boy as a staff record, record labeland as a motherfuckin crewAnd if you wanna be down with Bad BoyThen fuck you tooChino XL, fuck you tooAll you motherfuckers, fuck you too(take money)(take money)Alla y'all motherfuckers, fuck you die slow motherfuckerMy fo'-fo' make sure all y'all kids don't growYou motherfuckers can't be us or see usWe the motherfuckin Thug Life ridahs WEESSSSSSTSIIIIIDE till we die!Out here in California Nigga we warn ya we'll bomb on you motherfuckersWe do our jobYou think you mob, nigga we the motherfuckin mobAin't nuttin but killers and the real niggazAll you motherfuckers feel usOur shit's go triple and four-quadruple(take money)You niggaz laugh coz our staff got guns in theymotherfuckers belt, you know how it isWhen we drop records they feltYou niggaz can't feel itWe the realest, FUCK EM, we Bad Boy killaz! (we killin)
1 comment:
salam singgah dan salam aidilfitri.
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