Hit 'Em Up - Album Version (Edited)

(Take money) Westside, Bad Boy killas

(Take money) (you know) you know who the realest is

(Take money) we bring it too

That's a'ight, haha

(Take money) haha

First off, yo' and the clique you claim

Westside when we ride, come equipped with game

You claim to be a player, but I your wife

We bust on Bad Boys, for life

Plus, Puffy tryna see me, weak hearts I rip

Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A., some mark

We keep on comin' while we runnin' for your jewels

Steady, 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 around with real G's

Quick to snatch yo' ugly ** off the streets, so peace

I'll let them know it's on for life

Don't let the Westside ride tonight (hahaha)

Bad Boy

Get yo' caps peeled, you know

See, grab your 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

I hit 'em up (yeah)

Check this out (take money)

You know what time it is

I don't even know why I'm on this track (take money)

Y'all ain't even on my level (take money)

I'ma let my lil' homies ride on you made ** (take money)

Bad ay ay ayo hold the up

Feel it (take money)

Get out the way yo, get out the way yo

Biggie Smalls just got dropped

Little Mu', 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 ** in the paint

Puffy weaker than the block I'm runnin' through

And I'm smokin' Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you

With the ready power tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer

Your clout petty/sour, I push packages every hour I hit 'em up

Grab your 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

We hit 'em up

Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel

This ain't no freestyle battle

All you gettin' killed with your mouths open

Tryna come up off of me, you in the clouds hopin'

Smokin' **, it's like a sherm high

Think they learned to fly

But they burn, you deserve to die

Talkin' about you gettin' money, but it's funny to me

Livin' bummy while you with me

I'm a self-made millionaire

Thug livin', out of prison, pistols in the air (haha)

Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch

And beg a 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

I'm still the thug that you love to hate

I hit 'em up

I'm from N-E-W Jers' where plenty of murders occurs

No points or commas, we bring the drama to all you herbs

Now go check the scenario Little 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, is you stupid?

I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn

With my click lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block

With a 15 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

You's a beat biter, a Pac style taker

I'll tell you to your face, you ain't ** but a faker

Softer than Alizé with a chaser

'Bout to get murdered for the paper

E.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caper

Like a loc, with Lil' Caesar in a choke

Gun totin' smoke, we ain't no joke

Thug Life, 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

I hit 'em up

Now you tell me who won

I see them, they run, hahahaha

They don't wanna see us (take money)

Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique dressin' up tryna be us (take money)

They gonna be the mob

When we always on our job? (Take money)

We millionaires

Killin' ain't fair, but somebody gotta do it (take money)

Oh yeah, Mobb Deep, huh, you wanna? (Take money)

You little young-ass (take money)

Don't one of you got sickle-cell or somethin'? (Take money)

Have a seizure or a heart attack (take money)

You better back

Before you get smacked

This is how we do it on our side

Any of you from New York that wanna bring it, bring it

But we ain't singin', we bringin' drama

You and yo' mama

We gon'

Now, when I came out, I told you it was just about Biggie

Then everybody had to open their mouth with a opinion

Well, this is how we gonna do this Mobb Deep Biggie

Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a crew

And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy, then too

Chino XL, too

All you

(Take money, take money)

All of y'all, die slow

My .44 make sho' all y'all kids don't grow

You can't be us or see us

Thug Life ridas

Westside 'til we die

Out here in California, we warned ya

We'll bomb on you we do our job

You think you mob?

Ain't nothin' but killas

And the real, feel us

Our ** goes triple and 4-quadruple (take money)

Laugh 'cause our staff got guns under they belts

You know how it is when we drop records, they felt

Feel it, we the realest

We Bad Boy