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