[Intro: 2Pac]
(Sucka-ass)
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 with the rest of my town is 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 jockin' 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 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