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Hit Em' Up Lyrics

from We the Best

"Hit Em' Up" is track #5 on the album We the Best. It was written by Slayton, Paul Michael/khaled, Khaled/freeman, Bernard James/harr, Andrew/jackson, Jermaine.
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"Hit Em' Up" is track #5 on the album We the Best. It was written by Slayton, Paul Michael/khaled, Khaled/freeman, Bernard James/harr, Andrew/jackson, Jermaine.
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I'm comin' down, I'm actin' bad
I'm chunkin' deuces and I'm choppin' up the slab
I'm comin' through, I'm tippin' dime
I'm show a naked and I'm straight actin' a clown

I'm comin' down, I'm actin' bad
I'm chunkin' deuces and I'm choppin' up the slab
I'm comin' through, I'm tippin' dime
I'm show a naked and I'm straight actin' a clown

I'm a certified D-boy, a real big nutta
A candy car strutta that be sittin' on butta
Comin' straight up out the gutta with the cordless cutta
Man, what is that? The Chinese choppa that likens Mr. Studda

What a fucked up predicament
(Damn)
A scary scenario
Automatics in ya face have you preparin' ya burial
They tracin' tha weapon after you scratch off the serial
Leaves you up like cereal, there it is and there we go

Some bad Didos ridin' off in tha wind and
Nigga we got all yo' soft in yo' hands so don't pretend
Like this ain't what it was
(Was)
Or we ain't what you say
(Say)
I'll make a high cappa or court fraud light in tha day

'Cause in the middle of the street in height of tha traffic
Watch what you say when we meet
'Cause they know might get yo XXX kicked
End up in a pickle like a Vlasic, UGK nigga
We cost like a foreign but get respect like a classic muthafucka

I'm comin' down, I'm actin' bad
I'm chunkin' deuces and I'm choppin' up the slab
I'm comin' through, I'm tippin' dime
I'm show a naked and I'm straight actin' a clown

This Paul Wall, baby, Swishahouse spokesperson
Choppin' up tha slab, spokes turnin', bobbies searchin'
Shoppers splergin', caked up 'cause my pockets swell
I'm callin' plays, pullin' broads, I just think and roll

I'm from that lone star, tippin' dime dat candy car
Get it shined on 59, lean and tuck I'll cut some more
Hoes wanna who we are, fathers wanna know what we get
Hatas wanna talk down a knot, but they just mad 'cause they ain't hot

They ain't got the cash that I got, they don't know what my hood 'bout
They don't know about trunks that pop on Lambo's that blaze tha chop
Countin' cash and stackin' not, South victory back to Scott
Crawlin' like big crocodile, I'm diamond smile and Johnny watch

I'm with my partner, box, you and you and not with 'cho
Rick boy, yeah, that's fo' sho', breakin' 'em off, you already know
Drive slow like Kanye West and Branyan Wayans and Manny Mesh
A Swishahouse chain on my chest, I keep it fresh, we are the best

I'm comin' down, I'm actin' bad
I'm chunkin' deuces and I'm choppin' up the slab
I'm comin' through, I'm tippin' dime
I'm show a naked and I'm straight actin' a clown

Songwriters
SLAYTON, PAUL MICHAEL/KHALED, KHALED/FREEMAN, BERNARD JAMES/HARR, ANDREW/JACKSON, JERMAINE

Published by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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