Chords for 2Pac - Hit 'Em Up [HD] [Best Quality]

Tempo:
95.15 bpm
Chords used:

E

Am

D

A

C

Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
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2Pac - Hit 'Em Up [HD] [Best Quality] chords
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I ain't got no motherfuckin'
That's why I fucked your bitch, you fat motherfucker Fake money [D] Westside
Bad boy killers You know
[E] You know who the realest is, [C] niggas
We bringing you [A] That's right Fake money
First off, fuck your bitch in the clique you claim
[D] Westside, when we ride, come equipped with game
[E] You claim to be a [C] player, but I fucked your wife
[A] We bust on bad boys, niggas fuck for life
[Am] Plus, Puffy tryna see me weak, hearts I rip
[Dm] Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia, some mock-ass [E] bitches
We keep on [C] coming while we running for your [Am] dudes
Steady gunning, keep on busting at them fools
You know the rules, Lil' Speecy, go ask your homie how I'll leave [Dm] you
Cut your young ass up, leave you in peace
Now be [E] deceased, Lil' Kim, [C] don't fuck around with real [A] G's
Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the streets
So fuck beats, I'll let them [Am] niggas know it's on for life
[Dm] Don't let the Westside ride the night
[E] Bad boy [A] murdered on wax and kick
[Am] Fuck with me and get your cats killed
You know, see
Grab your blocks when you see Tupac
[D] Call the cops when you see [E] Tupac
Who shot [C] me but your punk's beaten, [Am] finished
Now you're about to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit him up
Get
[Dm] [E] [C]
[A] out the way, yo, [A] get out the way, yo
[D] Biggie Smalls and Scott Trock
Little [Em] Moon past the mat
[Am] And let me hit him in his back
Frank Wright need to kiss Bank Wright for setting traps
Little accident murderer
And I ain't never [Dm] heard of ya
Poisonous cat attack when I'm [E] serving ya
Spank and shake [C] your whole style when I [Am] gang
Guard your rank cause I'ma slam your ass in the bank
Buffy weaker than a fucking block I'm running through, nigga
[Dm] And I smoke a Junior Mafia in front of you, nigga
[E] With the ready power, tucking [B] my gas under my Eddie [A] Bauer
Your clout pretty sour, I'll put back in this area, [Am] I'll hit him up
Grab your blocks when you see [D] Tupac
Call the cops when you see [E] Tupac
Who shot [Am] me but your punk's beaten, finished
Now you're about to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, we hit him up, he probably do it, keep it real
It's [Dm] penitentiary steel, this ain't no freestyle battle
All you [E] niggas getting killed with your [A] mouths open
Trying to come up on me, you in the clouds hoping
Smoking dope, it's like a sherm, all our niggas think they learn to fly
[D] But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die
[E] Talking about you getting [Am] money, but it's funny to me
All you niggas living for me, why you fucking with me?
I'm a self-made millionaire
Thug [Dm] living out of prison, pistols in the air
[E] Biggie, remember when I used [Am] to let you sleep on the couch
[A] And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house
Now it's all about Versace, you copy my style
[D] Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled
[Em] Now I'm about to set the record [C] straight
With my AK, I'm still the thug that you love to hate
Motherfucker, I'll hit him up
I'm from N.E.W. Jers, with plenty murders [D] and curves
No point to come when we bring the drama to all you [E] heard
So I'ma check the [C] scenario
Little C's, I [A] bring you fake G's
Sit your knees, coppin' pleasantries, you hear me
On little Kimmys, you coped up or doped up
Get [D] your little Junior Rival clique smoked up
What the [Em] fuck is you stupid?
I [C] take money, crashin' matches, [A] blue Brooklyn
With my clique lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block
With 15 shot cock lock till you [D] lie
Outlaw mafia clique, movin' up another [Em] notch
In your box top [A] spots, get mobbed and dropped
Blow your fake ass East Coast drops, rainstormed and locked
Use a B-biter, a Pac style [Dm] taker
I'll tell you to your face, you ain't shit but a [E] faker
So for the Aller [B]-Zay with a chaser
About [Am] to get murdered for the paper
E.D. I mean the poster scene or the caper
Like a loaf, with a little Caesar [D] in the choke
We ain't no [E] motherfuckin' joke, dawg
[Am] Like niggas better be known, we approachin'
In the wide open, gun smokin'
No need for hopin', it's a battle lost
I got em' [Dm] forced to soothe the funk
Poppin' off, nigga, [E] I hit em' up
[Am] Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run
They don't wanna see us
Old Junior [Dm] Mafia clique, dressin' up, tryin' to be us
How the [E] fuck they gon' be the mob when we [C] always on our job?
We millionaires, killin' ain't fair
But somebody gotta do it
Oh yeah, Mob D, you wanna fuck with [D] us?
You little young ass motherfuckers
Don't one of you [E] niggas got sickle cell or [C] somethin'?
You fuckin' with me, nigga?
You [A] fuckin' with her, I'll have a seizure, a heart attack
You better back the fuck up before you get smacked [Am] the fuck up
This how we [Dm] do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that [E] wanna bring it, bring it
But we ain't [B] singin', we bringin' drama
[Am] Fuck you and your motherfuckin' mama
We gon' kill all you motherfuckers
Now when I came out, I [D] told you it was just about big
Then everybody had to open their [E] mouth with a motherfucker
Well [A] this how we gon' do [Am] this
Fuck Mob D, fuck Biggie
Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label, [D] and as a motherfuckin' crew
And if you wanna be down [E] with Bad Boy, then fuck [A] you too
Chino XL, fuck you too
[E] All you motherfuckers, fuck you too
[D] All of y'all [E] motherfuckers, fuck you, die [C] slow, motherfucker
My [A] phone phone, make sure all y'all kids don't grow
You motherfuckers can't be us or see us
You [D] motherfuckin' thug-like riders westside till we [Em] die
Out here in [A] California, nigga, we warnin' you
We'll bomb on you motherfuckers
We do our job, you think you mob, nigga, we the motherfuckin' [D] mob
Ain't nothin' but killers and real niggas, all you [E] motherfuckers feel it
Our [C] shits go triple and four [Am] quatruple
You niggas laugh cause our staff got [D] guns in they motherfuckin' belts
You know how it is [E] when we drop records, they felt
[C] You niggas can't feel [Am] it, we the realest
Fuck em', we Bad Boy killin'
[N]
Key:  
E
2311
Am
2311
D
1321
A
1231
C
3211
E
2311
Am
2311
D
1321
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I ain't got no motherfuckin'
That's why I fucked your bitch, you fat motherfucker Fake money [D] Westside
Bad boy killers You know
[E] You know who the realest is, [C] niggas
We bringing you [A] That's right Fake money
First off, fuck your bitch in the clique you claim
[D] Westside, when we ride, come equipped with game
[E] You claim to be a [C] player, but I fucked your wife
[A] We bust on bad boys, niggas fuck for life
[Am] Plus, Puffy tryna see me weak, hearts I rip
[Dm] Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia, some mock-ass [E] bitches
We keep on [C] coming while we running for your [Am] dudes
Steady gunning, keep on busting at them fools
You know the rules, Lil' Speecy, go ask your homie how I'll leave [Dm] you
Cut your young ass up, leave you in peace
Now be [E] deceased, Lil' Kim, [C] don't fuck around with real [A] G's
Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the streets
So fuck beats, I'll let them [Am] niggas know it's on for life
[Dm] Don't let the Westside ride the night
_ [E] Bad boy [A] murdered on wax and kick
[Am] Fuck with me and get your cats killed
You know, see
Grab your blocks when you see Tupac
[D] Call the cops when you see [E] Tupac
Who shot [C] me but your punk's beaten, [Am] finished
Now you're about to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit him up
Get _
_ [Dm] _ _ _ _ [E] _ _ [C] _
_ [A] _ _ _ out the way, yo, [A] get out the way, yo
[D] Biggie Smalls and Scott Trock
Little [Em] Moon past the mat
[Am] And let me hit him in his back
Frank Wright need to kiss Bank Wright for setting traps
Little accident murderer
And I ain't never [Dm] heard of ya
Poisonous cat attack when I'm [E] serving ya
Spank and shake [C] your whole style when I [Am] gang
Guard your rank cause I'ma slam your ass in the bank
Buffy weaker than a fucking block I'm running through, nigga
[Dm] And I smoke a Junior Mafia in front of you, nigga
[E] With the ready power, tucking [B] my gas under my Eddie [A] Bauer
Your clout pretty sour, I'll put back in this area, [Am] I'll hit him up
Grab your blocks when you see [D] Tupac
Call the cops when you see [E] Tupac
Who shot [Am] me but your punk's beaten, finished
Now you're about to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, we hit him up, he probably do it, keep it real
It's [Dm] penitentiary steel, this ain't no freestyle battle
All you [E] niggas getting killed with your [A] mouths open
Trying to come up on me, you in the clouds hoping
Smoking dope, it's like a sherm, all our niggas think they learn to fly
[D] But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die
[E] Talking about you getting [Am] money, but it's funny to me
All you niggas living for me, why you fucking with me?
I'm a self-made millionaire
Thug [Dm] living out of prison, pistols in the air
[E] Biggie, remember when I used [Am] to let you sleep on the couch
[A] And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house
Now it's all about Versace, you copy my style
[D] Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled
[Em] Now I'm about to set the record [C] straight
With my AK, I'm still the thug that you love to hate
Motherfucker, I'll hit him up
I'm from N.E.W. Jers, with plenty murders [D] and curves
No point to come when we bring the drama to all you [E] heard
So I'ma check the [C] scenario
Little C's, I [A] bring you fake G's
Sit your knees, coppin' pleasantries, you hear me
On little Kimmys, you coped up or doped up
Get [D] your little Junior Rival clique smoked up
What the [Em] fuck is you stupid?
I [C] take money, crashin' matches, [A] blue Brooklyn
With my clique lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block
With 15 shot cock lock till you [D] lie
Outlaw mafia clique, movin' up another [Em] notch
In your box top [A] spots, get mobbed and dropped
Blow your fake ass East Coast drops, rainstormed and locked
Use a B-biter, a Pac style [Dm] taker
I'll tell you to your face, you ain't shit but a [E] faker
So for the Aller [B]-Zay with a chaser
About [Am] to get murdered for the paper
E.D. I mean the poster scene or the caper
Like a loaf, with a little Caesar [D] in the choke
We ain't no [E] motherfuckin' joke, dawg
[Am] Like niggas better be known, we approachin'
In the wide open, gun smokin'
No need for hopin', it's a battle lost
I got em' [Dm] forced to soothe the funk
Poppin' off, nigga, [E] I hit em' up
[Am] Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run
They don't wanna see us
Old Junior [Dm] Mafia clique, dressin' up, tryin' to be us
How the [E] fuck they gon' be the mob when we [C] always on our job?
We millionaires, killin' ain't fair
But somebody gotta do it
Oh yeah, Mob D, you wanna fuck with [D] us?
You little young ass motherfuckers
Don't one of you [E] niggas got sickle cell or [C] somethin'?
You fuckin' with me, nigga?
You [A] fuckin' with her, I'll have a seizure, a heart attack
You better back the fuck up before you get smacked [Am] the fuck up
This how we [Dm] do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that [E] wanna bring it, bring it
But we ain't [B] singin', we bringin' drama
[Am] Fuck you and your motherfuckin' mama
We gon' kill all you motherfuckers
Now when I came out, I [D] told you it was just about big
Then everybody had to open their [E] mouth with a motherfucker
Well [A] this how we gon' do [Am] this
Fuck Mob D, fuck Biggie
Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label, [D] and as a motherfuckin' crew
And if you wanna be down [E] with Bad Boy, then fuck [A] you too
Chino XL, fuck you too
[E] All you motherfuckers, fuck you too
_ [D] _ All of y'all [E] motherfuckers, fuck you, die [C] slow, motherfucker
My [A] phone phone, make sure all y'all kids don't grow
You motherfuckers can't be us or see us
You [D] motherfuckin' thug-like riders westside till we [Em] die
Out here in [A] California, nigga, we warnin' you
We'll bomb on you motherfuckers
We do our job, you think you mob, nigga, we the motherfuckin' [D] mob
Ain't nothin' but killers and real niggas, all you [E] motherfuckers feel it
Our [C] shits go triple and four [Am] quatruple
_ _ _ You niggas laugh cause our staff got [D] guns in they motherfuckin' belts
You know how it is [E] when we drop records, they felt
[C] You niggas can't feel [Am] it, we the realest
Fuck em', we Bad Boy killin' _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _

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