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5 shots couldn't drop me i took and smiled lyrics
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Hit Em Up by Tupac Shakur lyrics are:

… Yeah

Ayo

I think y'all gonna like this next song

When this song drops, I want all the West coast people to give up some love when this song come up

Y'all about to go crazy

They try to ban this song

They don't wanna play my song

But they want to play Fat Boy all goddamn day

… Come on, come on (take money)

Come on, come on (take money)

What's up ******

… First off, **** your ***** and the click you claim

Westside when we ride come equipped with game

You claim to be a player but I ****** your wife

We bust on Bad Boy niggaz ****** for life

Plus Puffy tryin' ta 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 yo' jewels

Steady gunnin, keep on bustin at them fools, you know the rules

Lil' Ceaser, go ask ya homie how I leave ya

Cut your young *** 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 let them niggaz know it's on for life

So let the Westside ride tonight

Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed

**** wit' me and get yo' caps peeled, you know, see

… Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac

Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uh

Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish

Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace

*****, we hit em' up

… Yes, yo, Outlaw to this mutherfucker (take money)

West Coast, what's up? (take money)

What's up

… Get out the way yo, get out the way yo

Biggie Smalls just got shot

Little Moo, pass the mac, and let me hit him in his back

Frank White need to get spanked right, for settin' traps

Little accident murderers, and I ain't never heard-a ya

Poisinous 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 tuckin' my Guess under my Eddie Bauer

Ya clout petty sour, I get packages every hour to hit 'em up

… Oh

Call the cops, when you see Tupac

Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish

Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace

*****, I hit em' up

… Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel

This ain't no freestyle battle

All you niggaz gettin killed with ya mouths open

Tryin' to come up offa me, you in the clouds hopin'

Smokin dope it's like a sherm high niggaz 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 niggaz livin' bummy, why you ******' with me?

I'm a self made millionaire

Thug livin' out a prison, pistols in the air

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

And beg a ***** to let you 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 bout to set the record straight

With my A.K. I'm still the thug that you love to hate

Motherfucker, I hit 'em up

… I'm from N-E-W Jers'

Where plenty of murders occurs

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

Now go check the scenario

Little Ceas' I'll bring you fake G's to your knees

Copping 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 looting, shooting and polluting your block

With a 15-shot cocked Glock to your knot

Outlaw MAFIA clique moving up another notch

And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped

And all your fake *** 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 Alize with a chaser

About to get murdered for the paper

E.d.i Amin approach the scene of the caper

Like a loc, with Little Ceas' in a choke

Gun totin' smoke. We ain't no ************* joke

*****, better be known

We approaching in the wide open, gun smoking

No need for hoping, it's a battle lost

I got em crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off

*****, I hit em up

… Oh oh

Hah

yeah

… We hit 'em up

Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac

Come on with the next ****

Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish

Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace

*****, we hit em' up

… That's right

Go

Yo

Y'all gotta keep this **** real
by (137k points)

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