Hit Em Up chords

I ain't got no motherfuckin' plan.
That's why Am I fucked your bitch, you fat motherfucker.
We save money D Westside.
Bad boy killers.
You E know who the realest is, C niggas.
We bring it to Am you L.
I.
_ First off, fuck your bitch in the clique you claim.
Westside, when we ride, come equipped with game.
You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife.
We bust on bad boys, niggas, fuck for life.
Plus, Puffy tryna see me weak, hearts I rip.
Dm Bikki Smalls and Junior Mafia, some mock-ass G bitches.
We keep on coming while we Am running for your jewels.
Steady gun and keep on busting at them fools.
You know the rules, Lil' Speecy, C go ask your homie how I Dm leave you.
Cut your G young ass up, leave you in peace.
Now be Em deceased, Lil' Ken, don't fuck around with real A Gs.
Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the streets.
So fuck beats.
I let them C niggas know it's on for life.
Dm Don't let the Westside ride the night.
_ E Bad boy murdered on Am wax and kick.
Fuck with me and get your cat's pill.
You know, see.
Grab your blocks when you see Dm Tupac.
Call the cops when you see E Tupac.
Am Who shot me.
But your pump's thick and finished.
Now you're about to feel the wrath of a menace.
Nigga, I hit him up.
Check this E out, you D motherfuckers know what time it is.
I don't even know why I'm on this track.
G Y'all niggas ain't even on my level.
I'ma let my lil' homies ride on you Am bitch-made ass bad boy bitches Feel!.
Get out the way, yo, G# get out the way, yo.
Biggie Smalls, that Scott drop.
Lil' Em Moon, Pastor Mac.
And let me hit him in his back.
Frank Wright need to disfake.
Right for setting Am traps.
Little accident murderer.
And I ain't never Dm heard of ya.
Poisonous cat attack.
When I'm E serving ya.
Spank and shake.
C Get hostile Am when I yank.
Guard your rightness.
I'ma slam your ass in the bank.
Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm running through nigga.
F And I smoke it's Union Mafia in front of you nigga.
C With the ready power.
Tuckin' my gas under my Eddie power.
Your clout petty sour.
Am I push packages every hour.
Hit him up.
Grab your blocks when you see D Tupac.
Call the cops when you see E Tupac.
G Who shot me.
But your pump's thick and Am finished.
Now you're about to feel the wrath of a menace.
Nigga, we hit him up.
We probably do it, keep it real.
It's Dm penitentiary steel.
This ain't no freestyle battle.
All you E niggas getting killed with your mouths open.
Tryna A come up off of me.
You in the Dm clouds, smoking.
Smoking Am dope, it's like a sherm.
All our niggas think they learn to fly.
Dm But they burn, motherfucker.
You deserve to die.
E Talkin' bout you getting money.
But it's C funny to me.
Am All you niggas living for me.
Why you fuckin' with me.
I'm a self-made millionaire.
Thug Dm living out of prison.
Pistols in the air.
E Biggie, remember when I C used to let you sleep on the A couch.
And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house.
Now it's all about C Versace.
You copy my style.
Five shots couldn't G drop me.
I took it and Em smiled.
Now I'm about to set the record straight.
With my AK, C I'm still the thug.
That's who love to hate.
Motherfucker, I'll hit him up.
I'm from N.
E.
W.
Jers.
With B plenty murders and curves.
No point to come Bm to me.
Bring the drama to all you herds.
Now go C check the scenario.
Little C's, I bring you fake G's.
Sit your knees, coppin' pleasantries.
A You're an area.
Little Kim is you, C coked up or doped up.
Dm Hit your little junior, I'm a G clique smoked up.
What the Em fuck is you stupid.
I take money, crash and F# mash through Brooklyn.
With my C clique lootin', shootin' that blue in your block.
With 15 shot cock locks.
Till Gm you're not outlawed, mafia clique.
Movin' up another notch in your box top.
Rocks get mobbed and dropped.
F#m On your fake ass, East C# Coast props.
Am Brainstormed in lock.
Juza, be brighter.
I'm hostile, D take her.
I'll tell you to your face.
You ain't shit but a E faker.
Slow for the alazay with a chaser.
Am About to get murdered for the paper.
E.
D.
,.
I mean the prosthesine of the caper C Like a loaf With Lil' D Ceaser and a joke Cuts through smoke We ain't no E motherfuckin' joke Thugs like niggas Am better be known We approachin' In the wide open, gun smokin' No need for hopin' it's a battle lost I got em' Dm forced to soothe the funk Poppin' off, nigga E I hit em' up Now Am you tell me who won I see them, they run They don't wanna see us Whole Dm Junior Mafia clique Dressin' up, tryin' to be E us How the fuck they gonna B be the mob When C we always on our job We Am millionaires Killin' ain't fair But somebody gotta do it Oh yeah, Mob D You wanna Dm fuck with us You little young G ass motherfuckers Don't one of you niggas got sickle cell or somethin' You Am fuckin' with me nigga You fuckin' around and have a seizure Or a heart attack You better back the fuck up Before you get smacked the fuck up This Dm how we do it on our side Any of you E niggas from New York That wanna bring it, bring it But we ain't singin', Am we bringin' drama Fuck you and your motherfuckin' mama We gon' kill all you motherfuckers Now when I came out D I told you it was just about Biggie Then E everybody had to open their mouth With a motherfuckin' opinion Well this how we gon' Am do this Fuck Mob D Fuck Biggie Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record Dm label And as a motherfuckin' crew And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy Then G fuck you too Am Chino XL Fuck you too All you motherfuckers Fuck you too _ N All of y'all motherfuckers Fuck you, die slow motherfucker My phone phone make sure all y'all kids don't grow You motherfuckers can't be us or see us You motherfuckin' thug-like riders G Westside till we die Out here Am in California nigga We warn you, we'll bomb on you motherfuckers We do our job You think you mob nigga We the motherfuckin' mob G Ain't nothin' but killers to the real niggas All you motherfuckers feel it Our shits go triple and Am four quadruple You niggas laugh cause our staff got Dm Guns in they motherfuckin' belt You know how E it is when we drop records they felt Fm You niggas C can't feel it We the realest Fuck em We Bad Boy Killin' _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .
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