Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Hit, artist - Shyne. Album song Shyne, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 19.04.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Bad Boy
Song language: English
The Hit |
Look at this nigga, stuntin in front of Justin’s, actin silly |
If it wasn’t cops all over, I’d smack him with this milli |
You hoe niggaz move a brick and think they rich |
Get a few guns and a click and wanna take over shit |
Ain’t that the same kid that shot Reg in the head? |
Turned him into a carrot, he might as well have been dead |
Just came home from doin ten up in the Feds |
Be extortin kingpins for they horse and they bread |
Had the whole Brooklyn under pressure, I’m surprised he ain’t test ya |
Mad niggaz know better |
I ain’t comin up offa, no cheddar, no bricks, no nothin |
I’ll kick that motherfucker, FUCK HIM, yeah I’ll pay him somethin |
Pay his ass a visit, blow his brains on the sidewalk |
Let him collect his thoughts. |
. |
I’m the strongest force in New York |
til I’m a corpse, and even then, I’ll be buried with bricks |
and money-filled vaults, seventeen shots and two weeks later |
I’m in the spot, takin it light |
Watchin the Tyson fight it’s packed, uh with killers and rats |
Dope dealers, money hungry bitches, malicious |
Cars pilin up the block for blocks nigga, Bentleys and 6's |
This the place to be, where all the — gangsters meet |
As I pick up my drink, I see my man Fat Pete |
But before I could walk over, two niggaz tapped him on the shoulder |
and unloaded in his face, bullets flyin all over the place |
Mirrors shatterin, people scatterin, his bodyguards shot back |
Missed one but hit the other, in the abdomen, they both fled |
But who the fuck would do somethin so — brazen and reckless? |
Had to be some niggaz tryin to send a message |
Next day I got a call from uptown to, |
come have a meetin with The Council |
bout the shit that’s been goin down |
Word is, same kid that killed Fat Pete shot Reg in the head |
Bottom line he’s out of control, he got to be dead |
He’s startin to be a real problem |
Extortin niggaz, Brooklyn through Harlem |
But he fucked around and crossed the margin, touched one of ours |