Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hit Em Up, artist - Lil Wayne. Date of issue: 31.12.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Hit Em Up |
| I tried to talk to him |
| Quit talkin, I’ma hang ya by your tongue, Yea |
| Any motormouth could get hung high |
| We don’t fuck wit niggaz like fungi |
| We don’t even hear ya Hollerin bullshit nigga quit the diaherra |
| Pistol lie inside of the armrest, um yes |
| Lay a nigga down in his own mess, don’t mess |
| Playa fuck around wit the homeless, charmless |
| You can leave out here armless, no homies |
| Honest, you niggaz is harmless |
| I’m calm as a Don is supposed to (be) |
| Costa Nostra, don’t ever approach him |
| Don’t get close to him |
| Shootouts and nothin but rock n roll to him |
| Leave your blood on the dash, call it rose wood |
| 'Nother murder, 'Nother page out the notebook |
| It ain’t nothin it don’t make it if you no good |
| I tried to talk to him, but then a nigga had to Hit 'em up, Hit 'em up I ain’t even wanna hit 'em up really, I was tryna be calm |
| But, uh, that chopper Rrrot, put his head in his arms |
| And man, I tried to talk to him, I tried to talk to him |
| Hit 'em up, Hit 'em up I ain’t even wanna hit 'em up, fuck it make a nigga get loose |
| He had too much talkin, not enough Deuce' |
| I tried to talk to him, I tried to talk to him |
| Hit 'em up, Hit 'em up I ain’t even wanna hit 'em up hit 'em up I ain’t even wanna hit 'em but I hit 'em up (*Gun shot*) |
| I tried to talk to him, I tried to talk to him |
| Y’all take them shoes off your teeth |
| Stop runnin your mouth |
| No shoes, no feet, I’ll run in your mouth |
| I’ll come to your house, me and my goons |
| Loadin up bangers, ridin under the moon |
| Throwin up fingers sayin «My side rule» |
| If a nigga disagree, ask him «Must I prove?» |
| That Maybach coupe a cock-eyed fool |
| And I’m «in it like Bennet"hoe, aren’t I cool |
| But if that thermostat switch and that needle move |
| Then the attitude switch and the heat’ll move |
| I got that, Shakita banana, clip for the tool |
| Me the disaster, pity the fool, eat a catastrophe |
| Swallow the truth, belch reality |
| How does it taste, Pie to your face, You a bitch nigga |
| All pussy, stop comin out your lips nigga |
| I tried to talk him, but then a nigga had to Real talk boy, chill wit the talk boy |
| That tommy gun’ll tear your neighborhood apart boy |
| Yeah, leave your feelings in your heart boy |
| Start with the wrong boy, you end wit a stone boy |
| Wit your friends, to carry you alone |
| To a concrete mattress and a fluffy tombstone |
| Fuck discussion, I ain’t in to it boy |
| I just get to it, let’s do it, rip through a boy |
| Big uzi, tissue the boy |
| I’m inside lookin out, you just an intruder boy |
| You need sooches on your smooches boy |
| But, I tried to talk to him, but then a nigga had to |