Hit 'Em Up

## Single by 2Pac featuring the Outlawz

"**Hit 'Em Up**" is a diss track by 2Pac featuring the Outlawz. It was released on June 4, 1996, as the B-side to the single "How Do U Want It". It samples Dennis Edwards and Siedah Garrett's "Don't Look Any Further". Along with direct insults to his rival, the Notorious B.I.G., it includes targets at other East Coast rappers, including Lil' Kim, Chino XL, Mobb Deep, and Prodigy, highlighting the tensions at the time.

## Background

Shakur believed that B.I.G.'s "Who Shot Ya?" was aimed at him, so he responded with the diss track. Biggie explained to *Vibe* on the contrary, "I wrote that muthafuckin' song way before Tupac got shot. It was supposed to be the intro to that shit Keith Murray was doing on Mary J. Blige's [My Life] joint. But Puff said it was too hard." 2Pac didn't think this true, and responded, "Even if that song ain't about me. You should be, like, 'I'm not putting it out, 'cause he might think it's about him.'"

In 2014, E.D.I. Mean told VladTV that Goodie Mob was the first to hear the track in the studio. He recalled, "They came through right when we finished it. They were some of the first people to hear that record. They was just standing there like, 'Oh shit.' I'm sure—my boy T-Mo told me he was happy to hear that shit. Not happy to hear that we were going at anybody, he just liked the song. But for the most part they were just standing there like 'oh shit.'" He added, "I was so hungry and just eager to prove myself at the time, I was just happy I made the record and my eight bars was solid." During the session, the microphone kept shorting while 2Pac laid down his vocals.

According to an interview, Spice 1 had reported, "The original cover for the single had Puffy's head on a snake's body, and Biggie's head on a pig's." When asked if the rumors about Shakur's alleged affair with Biggie's wife were true, Biggie responded, "If the muthafucka really did fuck Fay, that's foul how he's just blowin' her like that. Never once did he say that Fay did some foul shit to him. If honey was to give you that pussy, why would you disrespect her like that? If you had beef with me, you're like, 'Boom, I'ma fuck his wife,' would you be so harsh on her? Like you got beef with her? That shit doesn't make sense. That's why I don't believe it." Faith maintained that nothing happened.

## Critical reception

On *Complex*'s "The 50 Best Hip-Hop Diss Songs," it was listed as Number 1 where they wrote, "Reworking the beat of the opponent's popular song? Check. Claiming relations with the opponent's baby-mama? Check. Poking fun at the opponent's physique and labeling him a biter? Check. Video parody? Check. Letting your little homies get in on the action? Check. On paper, 2Pac perfected and personified the diss song formula on "Hit Em Up," incorporating all of the elements those before him used to become victorious against their adversaries." They continued, "This sent the media into a frenzy, who dubbed it the East Coast vs. West Coast war, which quickly became the most publicized and sensationalized hip-hop beef of all time."

## Lyrics

* Single
* Live

**Lyrics**
[Intro: 2Pac]

I ain't got no mothafucking friends

What y'all n\*\*\*as talking about?

Hell yeah I'ma do this mothafucking track

And they know exactly who I'm talking about, too, you old bitch-made n\*\*\*as

[Verse 1: 2Pac]

'Cause uh, n\*\*\*as talk plenty shit, so many tricks

I fucked your bitch 'cause I'm true to this, witness the hit

You talk bad 'bout a n\*\*\*a when I got blasted

Hope you made a little money while the funk lasted

Heard they call you Big Poppa n\*\*\*a, how you figure?

'Cause to me you'll always be a phony fat n\*\*\*a

I can't be copied even wearing Versace, n\*\*\*a you run or ruck

Scared as fuck, if the guns would bust

Now n\*\*\*as talk I got a list of player haters and fakes

You bitch n\*\*\*as getting 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, n\*\*\*as dying tonight

We screaming, "West Side for life"

And I can't wait to see you n\*\*\*as in traffic 'cause we gonna get 'em up

When you see me, you better bust

'Cause I'ma hit 'em up

[Hook: 2Pac]

Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac

Call the cops when you see 2Pac

Who shot me? But you punks didn't finish

Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace

N\*\*\*a we hit 'em up

[Verse 2: Napoleon]

It's hard to explain, this wasn't my thang when I was younger

Before my shit, I swear to God, I'll leave you stiff just to make a come up

N\*\*\*as run up, 'cause more murder for the money

Got caught up tryna make a harder record, should've been on check[?]

'Cause I bet you and it's for life

You never gon' see a n\*\*\*a like me wanting a battle up on T.V

I'd rather release some of these

And put a slug to you busta-ass n\*\*\*as that continue to squeeze

I got some n\*\*\*as back in Jersey that rather be jacking cars

And robbing bitch n\*\*\*as like y'all for emergency

Let's take it back to the West Side

Them n\*\*\*as sure gonna be riders and plus we Thug Life n\*\*\*as, so call us multiply

Finger on the trigger, bitches stand and rise

But we don't trust 'em and they might be the first that we gon' bust on

Just label me a "Bad Boy Killer"

Do Mobb Deep bitches gonna feel us when we turn into killers?

Hit 'em up

[Verse 3: E.D.I Mean]

Now this is me, BK all day, ain't no Bloodin', ain't no Crippin'

Strictly Bad Boy killer, shoot that ass like a squealer

Now let this motherfucka top down, I'm finna drop rounds

Letting these sounds, pop and then I hop up

Seeing them shatter, shooting my shit to work a lease go

What's up to the riders in a L.A. Long Beach on up to the East O

Shooting at you, C-Lo, circle, this is yo virtue

The beef for the rest of [?] meant to turn you purple

Wanna take no fame for being enemies to the game

Who'll get that ass tamed, simple and plain, y'all know the name

Drama, riders, through the whole line up

N\*\*\*as get tired of dumpin' with they gat four

Then we mobbin' through they hood slow

No need for running 'cause we's don't give a fuck

Besides beforehand, we gots to hit they ass on up

[Verse 4: Hussein Fatal]

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

Biggie Smalls just got shot

And I'm a true eagle storming, n\*\*\*a laced your fat ass in California

I catch you on any East Coast corner and you's a goner

Puffy weaker than fucking block, I'm running through n\*\*\*a

And I'm smoking Junior M.A.F.I.A in front of you n\*\*\*a

With the ready power, tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer

Your clout petty sour, I push packages every hour

My sons past moon slapping nickels on glass 40s

So hand me the cash, you made on the ave

But that's yo' ass shorty

I got a team of simple bout-able souls

Move my ears like Yoda, quick as a cobra and never sober

[Verse 5: Kadafi]

I'm on a 12 O' Clock cruise to Brooklyn and I'm looking

For the thrill to see in your barrel ready to get his life tooken

So where you killers at? it's bang trick? don't tempt me to

Leave your coward ass stripped in a full clip emptied in your stomach

Jewels and all, yeah n\*\*\*a run it

Dropping all you cowards that be jackin' a n\*\*\*a behind it

You done just about made it an impossible to escape

Another 'mergency 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 leaking in your fucking seats

When we hit 'em up

[Verse 6: Storm]

If you a big bad mothafucka, come step to this

I got points in the clips and rhymes of the clits

Who wanna test that, to the 1-2-3 pound, to bound to get they ass put under

'Cause the Storm bringing nothing but thunder (That's right)

Who's the bomb n\*\*\*a, quick to feel that itchy finger?

Situation on my na-na, who's the bigger trigger?

I approached a true G, you thought I was bitch easy

Now you on your knees beggin' me

[Verse 7: 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 like 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 better respect 2Pac

If uno diss, you 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

**Lyrics**
[Spoken Word Intro]

N\*\*\*a we are...

Yeah

Hey, yo, I think y'all gonna like this next song

When this song drop, I want all the West Coast people to give up some love when this song come on. They tried to boo this song. They don't wanna play my song, but they wanna play fat boy all damn day

[Intro]

What, c'mon, c'mon

(Take money)

C'mon, c'mon

(Take money)

C'mon, c'mon

What's up n\*\*\*a?

[Verse 1]

First off, fuck yo' bitch and the clique you claim

Westside when we ride, come equipped with game

You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife

We bust on Bad Boys, n\*\*\*as fucked for life

Plus, Puffy tryna see me, weak hearts I rip

Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. is some mark-ass bitches

We keep on comin' while we runnin' for your jewels

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

Lil' Caesar, go ask your homie how I'll leave ya

Cut your young-ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased

Lil' Kim, don't fuck around with real G's

Quick to snatch yo' ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace!

I'll let them n\*\*\*as know it's on for life

Don't let the Westside ride tonight

Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed

Fuck with me and get yo' caps peeled, you know

My n\*\*\*as say

[Chorus]

See, grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac

Call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh

Who shot me? But you punks didn't finish

Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace

N\*\*\*a, I hit 'em up!

(Take money)

(Take money)

(Take money)

West Coast for life

[Verse 2]

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 needs to get spanked right for settin' traps

Little accident murderer

And I ain't never heard of ya

Poisonous gats attack when I'm servin' ya

Spank ya, shank ya whole style when I gank

Guard your rank 'cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint

Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm runnin' through, n\*\*\*a

And I'm smokin' Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, n\*\*\*a

With the ready power

Tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer

Your clout petty/sour

I push packages every hour

Hit 'em up!

[Chorus]

Oh, call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh

Who shot me? But you punks didn't finish

Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace

N\*\*\*a, we hit 'em up!

[Verse 3]

Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel

This ain't no freestyle battle, all you n\*\*\*as gettin' killed

With your mouths open

Tryna come up off of me, you in the clouds hopin'

Smokin' dope, it's like a sherm high

N\*\*\*as think they learned to fly

But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die

Talkin' about you gettin' money, but it's funny to me

All you n\*\*\*as livin' bummy while you fuckin' with me

I'm a self-made millionaire

Thug livin', out of prison, pistols in the air (Ha, ha)

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, we hit 'em up!

[Verse 4]

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: Lil' Cease

I'll bring you fake G's to your knees, coppin' pleas in de Janeiro

Little Kim, is you 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 lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block

With a 15-shot cocked Glock to your knot

Outlaw MAFIA clique movin' up another notch

And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped

All your fake-ass East Coast props brainstormed and locked

[Verse 5]

You's a beat biter, a Pac style taker

I'll tell you to your face you ain't shit but a faker

Softer than Alize with a chaser

About to get murdered for the paper

E.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caper

Like a loc, with Little Ceas' in a choke

Gun totin' smoke, we ain't no motherfuckin' joke

We them n\*\*\*as, better be knowin'

We approachin' in the wide open, gun smokin'

No need for hopin', it's a battle lost

I got 'em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin' off

N\*\*\*a, we hit 'em up!

[Chorus]

We hit him up

Call the cops when you see 2Pac

Say what? (Come on with the next shit)

Call the cops when you see 2Pac

Who shot me? But you punks didn't finish

Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace

N\*\*\*a, we hit 'em up!

## References

1. ↑ "Biggie & Puffy Break Their Silence — '96 VIBE Cover Story [PG.4"]. *Vibe*. March 9, 2012.
2. ↑ "E.D.I. Mean: Goodie Mob Were First to Hear 2Pac's "Hit 'Em Up"". *YouTube*. November 2, 2014.
3. ↑ "7 Things You Probably Didn't Know About Tupac's 'Hit 'Em Up'". *Uproxx*. June 4, 2015.
4. ↑ Barber, Andrew and Tharpe, Frazier (October 31, 2018). "The 50 Best Hip-Hop Diss Songs". *Complex*.