I ain't got no mutha fuckin friends br Thats why I fucked your bitch br You fat mutha-fucka {Take Money} br West Side br Bad Boy Killers {Take Money} br You know who the realist is br niggas we bring it to {Take Money} br (ha ha, that's alright) br br First off, fuck your bitch br And the click you claim br West side when we ride br Come equipped with game br You claim to be a playa br But, I fucked your wife br We bust on Bad Boys br niggas fuck for Life br Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak br Hearts I rip br Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia br Some mark ass bitches br We keep on coming br While we running for yah jewels br Steady gunning br Keep on busting at them fools br You know the rules br Little Ceasar go ask you homie br How i'll leave yah br Cut your young ass up br See yah in pieces br Now be deceased br Little Kim, br Don't fuck around with real G's br Quick to snatch your ugly ass, off the streets br So fuck peace br I'll let them niggas know br It's on for Life br Don't let the west side br Ride the night (ha ha) br Bad Boys murdered on Wax and kill br fuck with me br And get your caps peeled br You know, See br br [Chorus] br br Grab your glocks when you see 2pac br Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh br Who shot me, br But, your punks didn't finish br Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace br nigga, I hit 'em up br br Check this out br You mutha-fuckas know what time it is br I don't know why I'm even on this track br Y'all niggas ain't even on my level br I'm going to let my little homies br Ride on yah br bitch made ass Bad Boys bitches br {ahh yo, yo, hold the fuck up} br br Get out the way yo br Get out the way yo br Biggie Smalls just got dropped br Little move pa*s the mac br And let me hit 'em in his back br Frank White needs to get spanked right br For setting up traps br Little accident murderers br And I ain't never heard of yah br Poise less gats attack when I'm serving yah br Spank the shank br Your whole style when I gank br Guard your rank br Cause I'm a slam your ass in a pang br Puffy weaker than a fuckin' block br I'm running through nigga br And I'm smoking Junior Mafia br In front of yah nigga br With the ready power br Tucked in my Guess br Under my Eddie Bower br Your clout petty sour br I push packages ever hour br I hit 'em up br br [Chorus] br br Grab your glocks when you see 2pac br Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh br Who shot me, br But, your punks didn't finish br Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace br nigga, We hit 'em up br br Peep how we do it br Keep it real br Its penitentiary steel br This ain't no freestyle battle br All you niggas getting killed br With your mouths open br Tryin' to come up off of me br You and the clouds hoping br Smoking dope br It's like a Shermine br niggas think they learned to fly br But they burn mutha-fucka you deserve to die br Talking about you Getting Money br But its funny to me br All you niggas living bummy br While you fucking with me? br I'm a self made Millionaire br Thug livin', out of prison br Pistols in the Air {Air} (Ha Ha) br Biggie remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch br And beg the bitch to let you sleep in the house br Now its all about versace br You copied my style br Five shots couldn't drop me br I took it and smiled br Now I'm back to set the record straight br With my A-K br I'm still the thug that you love to hate br Mutha-fucka I'll Hit 'Em Up br br I'm from N E W Jers. br Where plenty of murder occurs br No points to come br We bring drama to all you herds br Now go check the scenerio br Little Ceas' br I'll bring you fake G's to yah knees br Copin' pleas with these br Little Kim is yah br Coked up or doped up br Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up br What the fuck? br Is you stupid? br I take money, br crash and mash through Brooklyn br With my click looting, shooting, and polluting your block br With fifteen shot, br Cocked glock to your knot br Outlaw Mafia click moving up another notch br And your Pop stars popped and get dropped and mopped br And all your fake ass east coast props br Brainstormed and locked br br You'se a beat biter br Pac style taker br I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothing shit but a faker br So fill the Alize with a chaser br 'bout to get murdered for the paper br E.d.i I mean post the scene of the caper br Like a loc, with little Ceas' in a choke (uhh) br Toting smoke, we ain't no mutha-fuckin' joke br Thug Life, niggas better be known br Be approaching br In the wide open, gun smoking br No need for hoping br It's a battle lost br I gottem crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off br nigga, I hit 'em up br br Now you tell me who won br I see them, they run (ha ha) br They don't wanna see us br Whole Junior Mafia click br Dressing up to be us br How the fuck they gonna be the Mob? br When we always on out job br We millionaire's br Killing ain't fair br But somebody got to do it br br Oh yah Mobb Deep (uhh) br You wanna fuck with us br You Little young ass mutha-fuckas br Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something br You fucking with me, nigga ? br You fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack br You better back the fuck up br Before you get smacked the fuck up br This is how we do it on our side br Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it, br Bring it. br But we ain't singing, br We bringing drama br fuck you and your mother fucking mama. br We gonna kill all you mother fuckers. br Now when I came out, I told you it was just about biggie. br Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother fuckin opinion br Well this is how we gon' do this: br fuck Mobb Deep, br fuck Biggie, br fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a mother fuckin crew. br And if you want to be down with Bad Boy, br Then fuck you too. br Chino XL, fuck you too. br All you mother fuckers, br fuck you too. br (take money, take money) br All of y'all mother fuckers, br fuck you, die slow mother fucker. br My fo' fo' (.44 magnum) make sure all yo' kids don't grow. br You mother fuckers can't be us or see us. br We mother fuckin' Thug Life riders. br West Side till' we die. br Out here in California, nigga br We warned ya' br We'll bomb on you mother fuckers. br We do our job. br You think you the mob, nigga, we the mother fuckin' mob br Ain't nuttin' but killers br And the real niggas, all you mother fuckers feel us. br Our shit goes triple and four quadruple br You niggas laugh cuz our staff got guns under they mother fuckin' belts br You know how it is and we drop records they felt br You niggas can't feel it br We the realist br fuck 'em. br We Bad Boy killas. br br br br br ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ br ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ br ♥♥ R.i.