Hit Em
I'm a stone hitter
I'ma fuck her quicker
I hit it from the back yeah, I'm the short niqqa, pop hot bottles
Them bitches wanna cuddle
I hit em with the shovel
Her mouth full of cum I'ma make her swallow
I beat that pussy good till the bitches talking dirty
I'm the only niqqa who can make her go thirty yeah haah
Im a hot boy yeah Im a hot boy screeee
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I gotch your shorty breaking dancing on the down low
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got the barrel sounding crazy every time it hit the floor
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you cry
Got my niggas on block
Got them bitches on clock
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got my realist nigga
We sipping on this liquor
Digga
I look into the mind and not the physical
All ma niggas bout the grinding they all biblical
They be passing all the knowledge trynna build me up
Always wished the best wishing hella miracls
Tried to stand up for the truth ended up up alone
Solo, like mono
Never minded being alone
Seshin up the blizzy tryna numb the pain away
123 those ma dawgs who chose to stay
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I gotch your shorty breaking dancing on the down low
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got the barrel sounding crazy every time it hit the floor
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you cry
Got my niggas on block
Got them bitches on clock
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got my realist nigga
We sipping on this liquor
Digga
Im sorry if I'm trying to some the money for myself,
I just think y'all need some help, wearing Gucci on your neck
Makayla on the phone, we just send each other text
Then she call me on the phone, she just do this shit complex
I just love my fucking people
Even though the consequences everybody's is limited in a scary situation
Use to listen to the Beatles
In the house Stuart little
Im a beast in south, got gorrilas with them needles
Hit you with a scope
You got bounty on your head
He be trying to escape the rope
Even though his fucking dead
Man Its funny what I mentioned but I never caught body
Thats the niggas now days they be saying a lot of outty
Talking bout got money in reality you funny
With a bunny you a gangster I need food for my tummy
Got my wrist all bloody
I ain't mother fucking petty had dog named ruddy he a gangster on the Sunday
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I gotch your shorty breaking dancing on the down low
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got the barrel sounding crazy every time it hit the floor
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you cry
Got my niggas on block
Got them bitches on clock
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got my realist nigga
We sipping on this liquor
Digga
Oouhhhhhh yeah
Hit em with the Oouhhhhhh ey ey
Hit em with the Oouhhhhhh yeah
Hit em with the Oouhhhhhh ey
Yoooo!
I'ma fuck her quicker
I hit it from the back yeah, I'm the short niqqa, pop hot bottles
Them bitches wanna cuddle
I hit em with the shovel
Her mouth full of cum I'ma make her swallow
I beat that pussy good till the bitches talking dirty
I'm the only niqqa who can make her go thirty yeah haah
Im a hot boy yeah Im a hot boy screeee
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I gotch your shorty breaking dancing on the down low
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got the barrel sounding crazy every time it hit the floor
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you cry
Got my niggas on block
Got them bitches on clock
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got my realist nigga
We sipping on this liquor
Digga
I look into the mind and not the physical
All ma niggas bout the grinding they all biblical
They be passing all the knowledge trynna build me up
Always wished the best wishing hella miracls
Tried to stand up for the truth ended up up alone
Solo, like mono
Never minded being alone
Seshin up the blizzy tryna numb the pain away
123 those ma dawgs who chose to stay
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I gotch your shorty breaking dancing on the down low
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got the barrel sounding crazy every time it hit the floor
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you cry
Got my niggas on block
Got them bitches on clock
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got my realist nigga
We sipping on this liquor
Digga
Im sorry if I'm trying to some the money for myself,
I just think y'all need some help, wearing Gucci on your neck
Makayla on the phone, we just send each other text
Then she call me on the phone, she just do this shit complex
I just love my fucking people
Even though the consequences everybody's is limited in a scary situation
Use to listen to the Beatles
In the house Stuart little
Im a beast in south, got gorrilas with them needles
Hit you with a scope
You got bounty on your head
He be trying to escape the rope
Even though his fucking dead
Man Its funny what I mentioned but I never caught body
Thats the niggas now days they be saying a lot of outty
Talking bout got money in reality you funny
With a bunny you a gangster I need food for my tummy
Got my wrist all bloody
I ain't mother fucking petty had dog named ruddy he a gangster on the Sunday
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I gotch your shorty breaking dancing on the down low
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got the barrel sounding crazy every time it hit the floor
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you cry
Got my niggas on block
Got them bitches on clock
Hit em with a (Wooh)
Why you mad bro
I got my realist nigga
We sipping on this liquor
Digga
Oouhhhhhh yeah
Hit em with the Oouhhhhhh ey ey
Hit em with the Oouhhhhhh yeah
Hit em with the Oouhhhhhh ey
Yoooo!
Credits
Writer(s): Yafeu A. Fula, Malcolm R. Greenidge, Duane S. Hitchings, Tupac Amaru Shakur, Francine Vicki Golde, Bruce Washington, Johnny Lee Jackson, Dennis Lambert
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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