Hit ’Em Get ’Em

Chorus (Fiend):

Watch me hit 'em! Watch me lit 'em!
Unh, unh
Watch me hit 'em! Watch me get 'em then my nine split 'em!

(2x)

First Verse (J-Dawg):

I done more dirt than a lil'
But still
Gotta feel for the 1-8-7
And once you get done
Then I'm on the run with a naked gun like Mr. Drebin
I'm tellin' you niggas to watch your back
I peel more caps than a jap take pictures
A nigga that be down to get wit'cha when I be livin'up off the liquor
I figure the bigger the cap
The bigger the blood stain is on the black top
I get fat props when the gat pop, as I try to close that flat top
I stick around til' you black out, hit the back route
Duckin' po-po's
One time can't identify, because I'm dressed in hoe clothes
But even Bo knows what a strap does, when I stash mine in a stash box
No weapons or witnesses drop the case or get that ass dropped
Mr. D-A, you want a replay? How the G play, with some fucked nerves
My nine strap be buckin' as I'm stalkin' through the suburbs
Can't stop what you don't understand, told you fool I'm loced out
Shoulda broke out, your life ain't worth a dime when I get smoked out
The ghetto's where I dwell, dumpin' shells up out the window
Smokin' indo, get lit and treat my homies like my kinfolk
I been loced since day one, I'm true to self and that's all
I pass you like a fastball
When it's last call for alcohol
Drink hennessey like a fish, piss me off and it's your final down
Fully automatic makin' you bitch-made niggas bow down
What I found now
Is that life ain't nothin' but time to try and come up
Wanna be round to raise my son up
Ain't about to put my gun up
Run up nigga you get done up
Blazin' a blunt, so when I come duck
Lyin' about you murdered niggas knowin' you ain't done fuck
You punk bitch

Chorus

Second Verse (Threat + J-Dawg):

(Threat)

As I bails through the swamp I see faces of death
All my partners gettin' broke off with no traces left
Break yourself, see me, unloadin' with the Glock nine
Refuse to stop crime
So it's sin though, through your nostril
Pump on that afro and away bitch I dumps off
Clothes off, there's a two eleven in progress so I just
Gets gone in the wind with my papers
Capers
And pull full time since I pulled my first nine
Stick up another victim
Cop, before I kick up
Dust, bust the two while the seventeen fled the scene
Blaze the sack, my mind reacts
To jack mode
Road to riches, squeeze Glocks to need not
My nine to five is homicide
It's do or die
Me and niener be tag teamin' like Bonnie & Clyde

(J-Dawg)

M-I-S-T-A J-Dawg L-O-C nigga you can't see this
I be this, NIG-ER-RO that's been locin' since the fetus
I'm comin' up on the quick fast, I'm lovin' this life I'm livin'
I'm givin' no nigga no time to bust back
I'm quick to peel your cap, I'll fill your lap
Would've spilled your naps and left you open like a liquor store
Reachin' for niener but comin' up short 'fo you could get the hoe
Now hit the floor and bleed as I proceed to open your chest up
Let's check guts, who's next up?
To get wet for tryin' to flex nuts
I'm penetratin' your kidneys, don't get soft you're coughin' up blood
I'm tossin' up slugs
You ain't tough enough so I'm fuckin' up your Kool-Aid jug
I watch 'em tote you like a book bag
Put the clip in the Mac
And the zip in the sack and they haul your bitch ass
Off with your foot tagged, fool
Anybody killa, graveyard filler
Cap peeler
Glock clamped tight
For life is what that Camp like

Chorus

Third Verse (Threat):

Another payday with the AK, as I stay back, with the gun cocked
One shot, put his brains up on the canvas
It's scandoulous
From the East Bank, to the West Bank, these niggas peelin' caps
Givin' dirt naps to you busta muthafuckas pack your gat
See the jealous got me strapped, rollin' craps could be dangerous
Gotta pay roll for the killas that be quick to let the stainless bust
Flesh change to dust, ain't no risin' up in three days
Cuz a G plays for keeps, when a sweeper sweep the street
Niggas best to haul ass, come clean or get your neck broke
When the Tec smoke clears I disappear like David Copperfield
Got a proper deal with a proper steal
Grounds off-limits
Yellow tape and dead bodies, bitch you fuckin' with a menace
Bodies comin' up stale

Chorus