Chords for 2Pac - Hit 'Em Up (Dirty) (Music Video) HD
Tempo:
95.25 bpm
Chords used:
Am
E
Dm
C
G
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
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' [N] .
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' [N] .
Key:
Am
E
Dm
C
G
Am
E
Dm
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' _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _ .
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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