Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hit U Up, artist - Lil Wayne. Album song Lights Out, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Cash Money
Song language: English
Hit U Up |
Come on, come on |
Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on |
I roll with a bunch of untamed guerrillas, head bustas, and sharks |
Niggas that’s 'bout beefin' - lettin' them K’s spark |
Knockin'-it-off-your-shoulder soldiers — them real niggas |
Niggas who did time — hard-to-kill niggas |
How you live, you get it is the way a nigga play it |
Niggas ain’t fightin' no more — niggas bustin' your head |
Sendin' you to your grave — it’s do or die, cousin |
Aimin' straight for your head, makin' sure you die, cousin |
They dressin' in black, prepared for combat |
Ridin' four deep strapped with choppers and macks |
Not givin' a fuck, gettin' your cut, lettin' it bust |
You get hit, that’s on you, my nigga — you’re outta luck |
You’re stuck like chuck — wodie, you’re assed out |
That’s what happen to ya tryin' to be hard, runnin' your mouth |
Get erased, my nigga (my nigga) |
Look here: I leave no trace, my nigga (my nigga) |
No witnesses so can you see my face, my nigga (my nigga) |
Fled the scene — so you have no case, my nigga- -case, my nigga |
Look here: you can play if you wanna get down |
Get your stupid ass left where you can’t be found |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
We done popped you up, chopped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
We done popped you up, chopped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Whaa?) |
We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up |
I was wrong for a lot of shit that I’mma take to my grave |
Continuously whippin' niggas like a runaway slave |
Must was meant for me to be thuggin' - I stay in some beef |
Baby and Slim keep tellin' me, «Juvenile, stay off them streets.» |
I can’t help — I draw attention; |
they be fuckin' with me |
I’m hot in the ass and can’t get enough of these streets |
A lil' nigga in the Rolls screamin', «Fuck the police!» |
Peelin' out in front the club, about to duck to the east |
Now play yourself, you gon' find yourself by yourself |
In a nice place ducked off with fucked up health |
I done been strucked and snuck, but never fucked and stuck |
My life is four hundred degrees, so I bust 'em up |
Still stickin' to the g-code, Ree’s, and B’s |
Quit drinkin', but I will smoke some weed indeed |
All they understand is my project English |
And if you don’t like it, you can kiss my penis |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
I run the streets cause I’m real if it’s daylight or dark |
You a killer, nigga? |
(Eah?) Ain’t no fear in my heart |
I’ll go toe to toe with ya or take ya to war |
I’ll even go K for K with ya — now make your choice |
Better know when I’m in beef that I be creepin', nigga |
Better know that I’m a snake, and I’mma sneak ya, nigga |
Each time I hit the corner, I be leavin' niggas |
Momma upset — can’t even go on and grievin', nigga |
Nothin' change — I’m on TV, I don’t play with you niggas |
Still the same that’ll spin broad day on you niggas |
And empty a hundred out that K |
Where you’re caught hangin' is where you’re left stankin', ya heard me |
I’ve been in the game — niggas know what I’m 'bout |
So many murders under my belt, I done lost count |
If you wanna be another number, my nigga |
Go ahead, drop your nuts, and run up, my nigga |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
We done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
Now, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
Nigga, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
Now, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
And we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
Look, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Whaa?) |
Look, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
Hello, world |
I zip through fast in a yellow pearl drop Porsche Boxter |
Young mobster, wild and obnoxious |
Pop some in your dreadlocks — What? |
Me not no rookie, boy |
Glock cookin', boy |
I’ll turn your forehead to a pussy, boy |
Off the gate, cousin, you niggas gon' make me stalk and spray somethin' |
Spark or lace somethin' |
Park the car, get out, walk, and spray somethin' |
Taught to stay thuggin' brought up in this shit that we call America |
And in my hood the laws are scared of us — we are too terrible |
If I live to be old, it’s a miracle |
Cause the way a nigga hatin' or bitch plottin', the shit’s hysterical |
That’s why I keep me two big guns on blast like a stereo |
Come to your burial and kill anybody else who care for you |
Don’t blame me, society changed me |
You haul white, you smash powder all night for the fast dollar |
Cut off lights, we masked riders |
The hood trash got us in a position we can’t shake |
With bars we can’t break, and due to that you ain’t safe, bitch |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
Now, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
Look, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
Now, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up, nigga (Ooohh!) |
(Did you see that?) |
We hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
And we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
(Did you see that?) |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
Now, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
Boy, look |
We done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
Now, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
Look, we done hit you up, lit you up, twist you up (Ooohh!) |
Look, we done chopped you up, popped you up, boxed you up (Ooohh!) |
Nigga — we put holes in you bitch-ass niggas, ya heard me |
We don’t barrow nothin', don’t fear nothin' |
And ain’t nothin' you can do 'bout these (Hot! Hot! Hot!) Boy$, nigga |
Let 'em burn, nigga |
Let 'em burn, nigga |
B.Geezy, Lil Wheezy, Juvy, Two Tymer |