2Pac – F*ck Fake Friends (Motivation Song 2016) [Remix]

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Intro: ”Hit’em Up” Lyrics

Fuck Mobb Deep, fuck Biggie, fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label and as a motherfucking crew!
And if you want to be down with Bad Boy, then fuck you too!
Chino XL: fuck you too!
All you motherfuckers, fuck you too!
(Take money, take money)
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 til we die! We the realest
Fuck ’em, we Bad Boy-killers

First Verse: ”Where U Been” Lyrics

I reminisce on dangerous summers
We’re just a thug nigga workin’ for drug dealers of neighborhoods
Run up by the age of 13
We was gunnin’ and it was fun to see the police runnin’
Niggas disappear when we comin’
Little, nappy head shorty head addicted to drinkin’ 40’s
My niggas is naughty and y’all niggas is fuckin’ corny
But you left me in the summer of ’89, a very good year
Crack cocaine sales rose in every hood here
‘Til you got knocked
Then locked down, bag of rocks & fat knot
You shot down, what they tell me is you livin’ well
Stuck in your cell
Don’t get another slip, kickin’, drinkin’ liquor in jail
Just as well, hell nigga, I bail, whenever needed
There’s weed inside of the cereal box so don’t eat it
Where you been nigga? My homies wanna know


Where you been nigga?

Second Verse: ”Hit’em Up” Lyrics

Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel
This ain’t no freestyle battle
All you niggas getting killed with your mouths open
Trying to come up off of me, you in the clouds hoping
Smoking dope, it’s like a sherm high
Niggas think they learned to fly
But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die
Talking about you getting money, but it’s funny to me
All you niggas living bummy – why you fucking 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 bitch 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 back to set the record straight
With my AK, I’m still the thug that you love to hate
Motherfucker, I’ll hit ’em up

Outro:  ”Hit’em Up” Lyrics

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We motherfuckin’ Thug Life-riders, Westside til we die!
Out here in California, nigga, we warned ya
We’ll bomb on you motherfucker! We do our job!
You think you mob? Nigga, we the motherfuckin’ mob
Ain’t nothing but killers and the real niggas
All you motherfuckers feel us
Our shit goes triple and 4-quadruple

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