2Pac – Hit 'Em Up (feat. Outlawz) Lyrics

Hit 'Em Up

2Pac (feat. Outlawz)

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"Hit 'Em Up." - 2Pac (feat. Outlawz)

Tuesday, 20 October 2026, 08:02 am

Album: Greatest Hits

Track No: 12

I ain't got no motherfuckin' friends (Sucka ass)
That's why I fucked your bitch, you fat motherfucker
Westside, Bad Boy killers, you know
You know who the realest is, ****, we bring it to you (That's right, ha ha)
First off, fuck your bitch and 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, **** fucked for life
Plus, Puffy tryna 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 your jewels
Steady gunnin', 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 fuck around with real G's
Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace
I let them **** know it's on for life
Don't let the Westside ride tonight, ha ha
Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
Fuck with me and get your caps peeled, you know, see
Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac
Uh, who shot me? But your punks didn't finish
Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
****, I hit 'em up
Check this out, you motherfuckers know what time it is
I don't even know why I'm on this track
Y'all **** ain't even on my level
I'ma let my lil' homies ride on you bitch made ass Bad Boy bitches (Hey, yo, yo, hold the fuck up, yo)
Feel it
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 Wright need to get spanked right for settin' traps
Little accident murderers and I ain't never heard of ya
Poisonous gats attack when I'm servin' ya
Spank and shank your whole style when I gank
Guard your rank 'cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint
Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm runnin' through, ****
And I'll smoke a Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, ****
With the ready power, tuckin' my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
Your clout petty, sour, I push packages every hour, hit 'em up
Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac
Uh, who shot me, but your 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' dope, it's like a sherm high, **** think they learned to fly
But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die
Talkin' 'bout you gettin' money, but it's funny to me
All you **** livin' bummy, why you fuckin' with me?
I'm a self-made millionaire
Thug livin', outta prison, pistols in the air, ha ha
Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch
And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house?
Now it's all about Versace, you copy 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 that you love to hate
Motherfucker, I hit 'em up
I'm from N-E-W Jers' where plenty murders occurs
No points in common, we bring the drama to all you herbs
Now go check the scenario
Little Ceas', I 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 clique smoked up
What the fuck, is you stupid?
I take money, crashin' and mashin' through Brooklyn
Where my clique lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block
With fifteen shot, cocked Glock to your knot
Outlaw Mafia clique movin' up another notch
And your box top spots get mopped and dropped
And 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 shit 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 motherfuckin' joke
Thug life, **** better be knowin'
We approachin' in the wide open, guns smokin'
No need for hopin' it's a battle lost
I got 'em crossed as soon as the funk is poppin' off
****, I hit 'em up
Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run, ha ha
They don't wanna see us
Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique dressin' up, tryna be us
How the fuck they gon' be the mob when we always on our job?
We millionaires, killin' ain't fair, but somebody gotta do it
Oh yeah, Mobb Deep, huh, you wanna fuck with us?
You lil' young ass motherfuckers
Don't one of you **** got sickle cell or somethin'?
You fuckin' with me, ****, you fuck around an have a seizure or a heart attack
You better back the fuck up 'fore you get smacked the fuck up
This how we do it on our side
Any of you **** from New York who wanna bring it, bring it
But we ain't singin', we bringin' drama
Fuck you and your motherfuckin' mama
We gon' kill all you motherfuckers
Now when I came out, I told you it was just about Biggie
Then everybody had to open they mouth with a motherfuckin' opinion
Well, this how we gon' do this
Fuck Mobb Deep, fuck Biggie
Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label and as a motherfuckin' crew
And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy then fuck you too
Chino XL, fuck you too
All you motherfuckers, fuck you too
All of y'all motherfuckers, fuck you, die slow, motherfucker
My .44 make sure all y'all kids don't grow
You motherfuckers can't be us or see us
We motherfuckin' thug life riders, Westside till we die
Out here in California, ****, we warn ya
We'll bomb on you motherfuckers, we do our job
You think you mob, ****, we the motherfuckin' mob
Ain't nothin' but killers and the real ****
All you motherfuckers feel us
Our shits go triple and four quadruple
You **** laugh 'cause our staff got guns in they motherfucker's belts
You know how it is, when we drop records, they felt
You **** can't feel it, we the realest
Fuck 'em, we Bad Boy killers

Writer(s): 2Pac, Duane S. Hitchings, Franne Golde, Dennis Lambert, Johnny Jackson, Yafeu Fula, Malcolm Greenidge & Bruce Washington.

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