2Pac - Hit 'Em Up (Original Version) [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Intro: 2Pac]
I ain't got no motherfucking friends
What y'all niggas talking about?
Hell yeah I'mma do this motherfucking track
And they know exactly who I'm talking about, too, you old bitch-made niggas

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
Cause uh, niggas talk plenty shit, so many tricks
I fucked your bitch cause I'm true to this, witness the hit
You talk bad about a nigga when I got blasted
Hope you made a little money while the funk lasted
Heard they call you Big Poppa nigga, how you figure?
Cause to me you'll always be a phoney fat nigga
I can't be copied even wearing Versace, nigga you run or ruck
Scared as fuck, if the guns would bust, now niggas talk
I got a list of player haters and fakes
You bitch niggas 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, niggas dying tonight
We screaming, "West Side for life"
And I can't wait to see you niggas in traffic cause we gonna get 'em up
When you see me, you better bust cause I'm a 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
Nigga we hit 'em up

[Verse 2: Napolean]
It's hard to explain, this wasn't my thang when I was younger
Before my shit, I swear to God, I'll make you stick just to make a come up
Niggas run up cause more murder for the money
Got caught up tryna make a harder record, should have been on checked
Cause I bet you and it's for life
You'll never gonna see a nigga like me wanting a battle up on T.V
I'd rather release some of these
And put a slug to you buster ass niggas that continue to squeeze
I got some niggas back in Jersey that would rather be jacking cars
And robbing bitch niggas like y'all for emergency
Let's take it back to the West Side
Them niggas sure gonna be riders and plus we Thug Life niggas, 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 gonna bust up
Just label me a Bad Boy Killer
You Mobb Deep bitches gonna feel us when we turn into killers
Hit 'em up

[Verse 3: E.D.I Amin]
Now this is me, BBK all day, ain’t no blunt, ain’t no creeping
Strictly Bad Boy killing, shoot that ass like a squealer
Now let this motherfucking top down, I'm fitting to drop rounds
Letting these sounds, pop and then I'm hot bound
Seeing them shatter, shooting my shit to work a lease go
What's up to the riders in L.A, don't preach on up to the East O
Shooting that so, C-Lo, circle, that shit don't hurt you
___________ made to turn you purple
Wanna take a plane, but we enemies to the game
Well get that ass tamed, simple and plain, y'all know the name
Drama, riders, through the whole night
Niggas get taught, then we bobbin' through, they hits slow
No need for running cause we don't give a fuck
Beside the funky man, we got 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, nigga don't need 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 nigga
And I'm smoking Junior M.A.F.I.A in front of you nigga
With the ready power, tucking my gats under my Eddie Bauer
You clothes petty sour, I push packages every hour
My sons past when slapping nickels on glass 40s
So hand me cash, you made on that F without your ass shorty
I got a team of simple boutable souls
With my ears like Yoda quick as a cobra and never sober

[Verse 5: Khadafi]
I'm on a 12 O' Clock cruise to Brooklyn and I'm looking
For the thirl in your barrel ready to get his life tooken
So where your killers at you fake trick
E.D.I. will leave your coward ass stripped and a full clip in your stomach
You been all year nigga running
Popping every coward and every nigga behind you
I made it about impossible
For you niggas to escape another 'mergency visit to the hospital
I can't wait 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 mothafucker come step to this
I got points in the clip and worms on the tits
Who wanna test this to the 1 2 3 bound to get they ass put under
Cause the Storm is bringing nothing but thunder
Who's the bomb nigga quick to feel that ichy finger
Situation of my nine who's the bigger trigger
I approached a true G you though I was easy
Now you begging on your knees pleasey