2Pac – Hit Em Up (OG 1) feat. Outlaw Immortalz, Prince Ital Joe


Date: October 31, 1995
Producers: Johnny “J” Jackson & 2PAC
Recorded in Can-Am Studios
Samples: Dennis Edwards – Don’t Look Any Further ft. Siedah Garrettion)
Released: ”How Do U Want It” Single


Lyrics:

[Intro:Tupac] I ain’t got no muthafuckin’ friends
What y’all niggas talkin’ about
Hell yeah
I’m a do this muthafuckin’ track
(Right)
And they know exactly
Who I’m talkin’ about too
You old bitch made niggas

[Tupac] Cause
Uh
Niggas talk plenty shit
So many tricks
I fucked your bitch
Cause I’m true to this
Witness the hit
You talk bad about a nigga
When I got blasted
Hope you made a little money
While the funk lasted
Heard they call you Big Poppa
Nigga how you figure
Cause to me
You’ll always be a phony fat nigga
I can’t be copied
even wearin’ Versace
Nigga you run or buck
Scared as fuck
If the guns would bust
Now niggas talk
I got a list
Of player haters and fakes
You bitch niggas
Gettin’ blown away
You cross-eyed
Down syndrome
Crack baby
So you and Puffy are tough
Now that’s crazy
I got your ass in my sight
Niggas dyin’ tonight
We screamin’
West Side for life
And I can’t wait
To see you niggas in traffic
Cause we gonna get ’em up
(Ha ha ha)
When you see me
You better bust
Cause I’m a hit ’em up

[Chorus: Tupac] Grab your blocks
When you see Tupac
(Uh)
Call the cops
When you see Tupac
(Uh)
Who shot me
But you punks didn’t finish
Now you ’bout to feel the wrath
Of a menace
Nigga we hit ’em up

[Napoleon] It’s hard to explain,
It wasn’t my thing when I was a younger
Before my shit, I swear to God
I’ll leave you stick just to make a come up (ooooh nigga)
Niggas run up, it’s mo’ murder for the money
Got caught up tryin’ to make a harder record
You should’ve been done checked it
Cause I bet you, in this life (for life)
You’ll never gonna see a nigga like me wanting to battle up on T.V
I rather release some of these
And put a slug to you busta ass niggas and continue to squeeze
I got some niggas back in Jersey
That rather be jackin’ cars and robbin’ bitch niggas like yall for emergency
Let’s take it back to the westside, them niggas sure gonna be ridahs
And plus we Thug Life niggas, so call us multiply
Finger on the trigger, bitches standin’ by us
But we don’t trust ’em, they might be the first that we gonna bust on
Just label me a Bad Boy Killa
You Mobb Deep bitches gonna feel us
When we turn into killas

[E.D.I. Amin] Now it’s B.B.K all day, ain’t no frontin’, ain’t no trippin
Strictly Bad Boy Killa, shoot that ass like a squeala
Now let this muthafucka top down, I’m fin to drop rounds
Let these sounds pop and then I hop out
Send a shout out, to all my shit to walk on East Coast
What’s up to the ridahs in L.A, Long Beach, on up to the East O
Shootin’ at yo, C-Lo, circle, this is yo virtue
Dump these pistols, rest that tidal will turn you purple
Wanna take no fame
With enemies to the game
Who’ll get that ass tame simple and plain
Y’all know the name, drama, ridahs, thru the whole line up
Niggas get tired of dumping with they .4
Then we mobbing thru they hood slow, no need for runnin
Cause we don’t give a fuck
Cause I before them
We got to hit they ass on up

[Hussein Fatal] Hehe
Get out the way yo, get out the way yo
Biggie Smalls just got shot
And I’m a true eagle stormin
nigga take yo fat ass to California
I catch you on any East Coast corner and you’se a goner
Puffy weaker then a fuckin’ block
I’m runnin’ thru nigga, and I’m smokin Junior Mafia in front of you nigga
with the ready power tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
Yo clout petty sour, I’ll push packages every hour
My sons pass moon, slappin’ nickels on glass 40’s
So hand me the cash, you made on the Ave
But that’s yo ass shorty
I gotta team that sell more bottles then soda
Move my ears like yoda
Quick as a cobra and never sober

[Kadafi] I’m on a twelve o’clock cruise to Brooklyn
And I’m lookin’ for the third, let’s see no barrel ready to get his life tookin
So where yo killas at and fetti
Trick don’t test me to leave yo coward ass stripped and a full clip empty in yo stomach
Choosin all, yeah nigga runnin’
Poppin’ all you cowards that be jockin’ a nigga behind you
You done just about made it on impossible to escape
Another emergency visit to the hospital
I can’t wait to meet up with all you bitches in the streets
So I can leave all you cowards bleedin in yo fuckin’ seats when we hit ’em up

[Storm] If ya a Big Bad muthafucka, come step to this
I got points in the clips and winds of the clip
Who wanna test that, to the 1.2.3. bound to get they ass put under
Cause the Storm bring nothing but thunder (that’s right)
Who’s the bomb nigga, quick to feel that empty finga
Situations on my Na-Na, who’s the bigga trigga
Approach a true G, you thought I was begeezy
Now you on yo knees shakin’ me

[Prince Ital Joe]

Who fi broke-broke an who fi rich-rich
Outlaw Immortal will never switch
Police informa, di bwoy dem a snitch
Live the thug life and get buried ina di ditch
New York uno better respect 2PAC
an di yute Big, dem proud to be black
Jealousy some of them act idiat
Hangin’ pondi corner an smoke nuff crack
2PAC a di artical an dats a fact
so seh dis an so seh dat
New York uno betta respect 2PAC
if uno diss, u will gonna get a gunshot
Outlaw Immortal will come an attack
radical posse, as we have thug life back
Jamaican posse, yes, we love 2PAC
warrior black an di yute nuh smoke crack
New York uno better respect 2PAC
an di yute big, dem proud to be black
Jealousy some of them act idiat
Hangin’ pondi corner some of dem smoke crack
2PAC a di artical an dats a fact
so seh dis an so seh dat
Respect to my bredren 2PAC

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