Bad

(Hit-Boy)
Check it out
Everybody got a third eye, right?
But when you don't take heed, you fail to follow your instincts
Things could go bad
So bad that you might find yourself
In a hole you can't dig yo' way out of

Bustin' at the honeycomb, money on the mental
Ski mask, gloves, two choppers, and a pistol
Outside dark like thoughts niggas thinking
We Hitboy strike, leave sauce niggas leakin'
Speaking on Vix on the list for the lay down
How much the worth, plus dirt where they stay now
Hustle gets whoever, we ain't carin' 'bout the odds
Move with precision, and catch 'em by surprise

Ride for this money, yeah, we gotta run it smooth
Scopin' niggas, hope to win it, slidin' on this move
Stupid ammunition for this mission, it's a groove
If everybody play they part, then can't none of us lose
Scooped up, then maced up, tape in this canister
Heavy construction, we swing with the hammer

Knocked down my blunt, think we all saddled up
Double check weapons, prepare for the rush
Don't nobody bust, 'less you absolutely needed
All the last means left to get to the precedence
Snatch niggas seeds and laugh at they pleadin'
Block every option 'til cash is relinquished

Wish Dash got the kill, with my hands on the stick
Piled in the G, ride mash to the lick
Head across the city, on the backstreets crawlin'
Clicked it off safety as soon as I saw him
Two body guards rotatin' by the entrance
Slid up quick, got straight to my business
Doors flew open, then time slow motion
The young nigga with us let his eyes start smokin'

Blinks stay soakin' as the people stood frozen
Bricks in the open, just to shit, we was hopeless
Secure the location, secure, then we maced 'em
Snatched up the boss, to the back where I take 'em

Full cooperation, you fuckin' with some gangsters
Tell us where the safe, or it's murder in the making
Money or your life now, I'ma do it right now
Playing games, mothafucker, I'ma blow your lights out

Wait 'fore you stretch 'em, 'cause get the message
We bank to the safe, scrape stacks full of cheddar
Duffle bags stuffed with the jewels and the product
Creepin' out the crib, and the pigs just pop up

Soon as a nigga got close to the bag
Reached out for it and his hopes got dashed
E'rything swept up, gone in a flash
One false move and the shit went bad

Can I get a witness?
Eastside niggas with the bidness



Credits
Writer(s): Deandre Cortez Way, Eric Hibbler, Elijah Xavier Iii Johnson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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