Hit Em Up Chords

I didn't put all the lyrics because I would have to put all chords in all the lines in order to publish these chords, sorry.

awesome job

Grab ya Glocks when you see Tupac Call the cops when you see Tupac, uh Who shot me? But ya punks didn't finish Now ya 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, I hit em' up Check this out, you motherfuckers know what time it is (take money) I don't even know why I'm on this track (take money) Y'all niggas ain't even on my level I'ma let my little homies ride on you (take money) Bitch made-ass Bad Boy bitches, feel it (hey, yo, yo, hold the fuck up, yo) Get out the way, yo, get out the way, yo Biggie Smalls just got dropped Little Mu', pass the MAC and let me hit him in his back Frank White need to get spanked right for settin' traps Little accident murderers 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, nigga And I'm smokin' Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, nigga With the ready power tuckin' my Guess under my Eddie Bauer Ya clout petty sour, I push packages every hour, hit 'em up Grab ya Glocks when you see Tupac Call the cops when you see Tupac, uh Who shot me? But ya punks didn't finish Now ya 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, we hit em' up Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel This ain't no freestyle battle All you niggas gettin' killed with ya mouths open Tryna come up offa me, you in the clouds hopin' Smokin' dope, it's like a sherm high, niggas think they learned to fly But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die Talkin' 'bout you gettin' money but it's funny to me All you niggas livin' bummy why you fuckin' with me? I'm a self-made millionaire Thug livin' outta prison, pistols in the air 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 'bout to set the record straight With my AK, I'm still the thug that you love to hate Motherfucker, I hit 'em up I'm from N-E-W Jers' Where plenty murders occurs No points or commas, we bring drama to all you herbs Now go check the scenario Little Ceas', 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 clique smoked up What the fuck, is you stupid? I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn With my clique 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 And all your fake ass East Coast props Brainstormed and locked 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 Alizé 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 Thug Life, niggas better be known 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 Nigga, I hit 'em up Now you tell me who won I see them, they run (hahaha) They don't wanna see us (take money) Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique Dressing up trying to be us (take money) How the fuck they gon' be the mob when we always on our job? (Take money) We millionaires Killin' ain't fair but somebody gotta do it (take money) Oh yeah, Mobb Deep (take money) you wanna fuck with us? You little young-ass motherfuckers (take money) Don't one of you niggas got sickle cell or something? (Take money) You fucking with me Nigga, you fuck around and have a seizure or a heart attack (take money) You better back the fuck up 'fore you get smacked the fuck up This is how we do it on our side Any of you niggas from New York that wanna bring it, bring it But we ain't singin', we bringin' drama Fuck you and your motherfuckin' mama We gon' 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 Bo, then fuck you too Chino XL, fuck you too All you motherfuckers, fuck you too (take money, take money) All of y'all motherfuckers, fuck you, die slow, motherfucker My .44 make sure all y'all kids don't grow You motherfuckers can't be us or see us We motherfuckin' Thug Life riders, Westside 'til we die Out here in California, nigga, we warned ya We'll bomb on you motherfuckers, we do our job You think you mob? Nigga, we the motherfuckin' mob Ain't nothin' but killers and the real niggas All you motherfuckers feel us Our shits go triple and 4-quadruple (Take money) You niggas laugh 'cause our staff got Guns in they motherfuckers belts You know how it is when we drop records, they felt You nig