Hit ‘Em Up

Hit ‘Em Up: Chords

                                      
I ain't got no motherfuckin' friends (sucka-ass)
                               LAm
That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker
         REm
West side, Bad Boy killers (take money, take money)
                 MI7
You know who the realest is, niggas, 

we bring it to you (take money)
        LAm
That's aight (Take money)

First off, fuck your bitch and the clique you claim
    REm
Westside when we ride, come equipped with game
      MIm
You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife
    LAm
We bust on Bad Boy niggas fucked for life
                              
Plus, Puffy tryin' to see me weak hearts I rip
       REm
Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. 

some mark-ass bitches
MI7
 We keep on comin' while we runnin' for yo' jewels
       LAm
Steady gunnin', keep on bustin' at them fools, 

you know the rules

Lil' Ceaser, go ask ya homie how I leave ya
         REm
Cut your young ass up, leave you in pieces, 

now be deceased
MI7
 Lil' Kim, don't fuck around with real G's
         LAm
Quick to snatch yo' ugly ass off the streets, 

so fuck peace
 
I let them niggas know it's on for life
              REm
Don't let the Westside ride tonight (haha)
MI7 
Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
          LAm
Fuck wit' me and get yo' caps peeled, you know, see
                             
Grab ya Glocks when you see Tupac
REm
 Call the cops when you see Tupac, uh
MI7
 Who shot me? But ya punks didn't finish
        LAm
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)
REm
I don't even know why I'm on this track (take money)
                           MI7
Y'all niggas ain't even on my level

I'ma let my little homies ride on you (take money)
             LAm
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
REm 
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
                 MIm
Little Mu', pass the MAC 

and let me hit him in his back
      LAm
Frank White need to get spanked right 

for settin' traps

Little accident murderers 
           
and I ain't never heard of ya
REm
Poisonous gats attack when I'm servin' ya
MI7                     
Spank ya, shank ya whole style when I gank
  LAm
Guard your rank 

'cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint
        
Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block 
                
I'm runnin' through, nigga
        REm
And I'm smokin' Junior M.A.F.I.A. 

in front of you, nigga
         MI7
With the ready power tuckin' my Guess 

under my Eddie Bauer
   LAm
Ya clout petty sour, 

I push packages every hour, hit 'em up

Grab ya Glocks when you see Tupac
REm
 Call the cops when you see Tupac, uh
MI7
 Who shot me? But ya punks didn't finish
        LAm
Now ya 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace

Nigga, we hit em' up

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

This ain't no freestyle battle
                       MI7
All you niggas gettin' killed with ya mouths open
                   LAm
Tryna come up offa me, you in the clouds hopin'

Smokin' dope, it's like a sherm high, 

niggas think they learned to fly
         REm
But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die
         MI7
Talkin' 'bout you gettin' money but it's funny to me
        LAm
All you niggas livin' bummy why you fuckin' with me?

I'm a self-made millionaire
                  REm
Thug livin' outta prison, pistols in the air
          MI7
Biggie, remember when I used 

to let you sleep on the couch
          LAm
And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house?

Now it's all about Versace, you copied my style
     REm
Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled
         MIm
Now I'm 'bout to set the record straight
                          LAm
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
   REm
No points or commas, we bring drama to all you herbs
       MIm
Now go check the scenario
                                  LAm
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?
                REm
Get your little Junior Whopper clique smoked up
                      MIm
What the fuck, is you stupid?
                                          LAm
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
    REm
Outlaw MAFIA clique movin' up another notch
         MIm
And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped
               LAm
And all your fake ass East Coast props

Brainstormed and locked

You's a beat biter
      
A Pac style taker
     REm
I'll tell you to your face you 

ain't shit but a faker
MI7
Softer than Alizé with a chaser
                LAm
About to get murdered for the paper

E.D.I Mean approach the scene of the caper
                                   REm
Like a loc, with Little Ceas' in a choke
                                            MI7
Gun totin' smoke, we ain't no motherfuckin' joke

Thug Life, niggas better be known
      LAm
We approachin' in the wide open, gun smokin'

No need for hopin', it's a battle lost
                      REm
I got 'em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin' off
                 MI7
Nigga, I hit 'em up
                       LAm
Now you tell me who won

I see them, they run (hahaha)

They don't wanna see us (take money)
                        REm
Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique

Dressing up trying to be us (take money)
                   MI7
How the fuck they gon' be the mob 

when we always on our job? (Take money)
               LAm
We millionaires

Killin' ain't fair but somebody gotta do it 

Oh yeah, Mobb Deep (take money) 
                       REm
you wanna fuck with us?

You little young-ass motherfuckers (take money)

Don't one of you niggas 
    MI7
got sickle cell or something? (Take money)

You fucking with me
                           LAm
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
                        REm
This is how we do it on our side

Any of you niggas from New York 
                     MI7
that wanna bring it, bring it

But we ain't singin', we bringin' drama
LAm
Fuck you and your motherfuckin' mama

We gon' kill all you motherfuckers
               
Now when I came out, 
                  REm
I told you it was just about Biggie
 
Then everybody had to open their mouth 
       MI7
with a motherfuckin' opinion

Well this is how we gon' do this
LAm
 Fuck Mobb Deep, fuck Biggie

Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, 
                      REm
record label and as a motherfuckin' crew
                                    MI7
And if you want to be down with Bad Bo, 

then fuck you too
        LAm
Chino XL, fuck you too

All you motherfuckers, fuck you too 
            REm
(take money, take money)
                            MIm
All of y'all motherfuckers, fuck you, 

die slow, motherfucker
     LAm
My .44 make sure all y'all kids don't grow

You motherfuckers can't be us or see us
                 REm
We motherfuckin' Thug Life riders, 

Westside 'til we die
MIm
 Out here in California, nigga, we warned ya
      LAm
We'll bomb on you motherfuckers, we do our job
                          
You think you mob? Nigga, we the motherfuckin' mob
REm        
Ain't nothin' but killers and the real niggas
                      MI7
All you motherfuckers feel us
                                   LAm
Our shits go triple and 4-quadruple (Take money)

You niggas laugh 'cause our staff got
        REm   
Guns in they motherfuckers belts
                           MI7
You know how it is when we drop records, they felt
                          LAm
You niggas can't feel it, we the realest

Fuck 'em, we Bad Boy killers (we killers)

Hit ‘Em Up: Video

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Rock Italiano

Hit 'Em Up è un brano scritto e inciso da Tupac Amaru Shakur, noto come 2Pac, pubblicato come singolo nel 1996. Reduce dal grande successo del suo quarto album All Eyez on Me, il rapper di Manhattan torna con un nuovo pezzo rivelatosi tragicamente l'ultimo, vista la sua prematura scomparsa a causa di una sparatoria. Si tratta di un vero e proprio dissing rivolto a due esponenti dell'hip hop newyorkese: Notorious B.I.G. e Sean "Puffy" Combs, ritenuti colpevoli di un attentato contro di lui nel 1994.

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L'autore del post

Alberto Moneti

36 anni, polistrumentista: pianoforte, chitarra, batteria, clarinetto. Ha conseguito la licenza in teoria musicale e solfeggio presso il Conservatorio Cherubini di Firenze. Dal 1997 è organista presso la Basilica di Santa Maria del Sasso, a Bibbiena (AR).