Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hittas, artist - Yella Beezy. Date of issue: 18.07.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Hittas |
| Mmh, yeah |
| CashMoneyAP |
| Ayy, NLE |
| Top shotta |
| Top shotta, yeah, yeah |
| Ayy |
| Dope boy swag, Air Force 1's with a white tee (A white tee, yeah) |
| I’m clutching Glocks, pussy nigga, ain’t no fighting (Yeah, yeah, yeah) |
| I crossed a nigga on a lick, yeah, I’m shiesty |
| I’m fucking on a nigga bitch, yeah, I’m piping |
| If I see an opp then I’m dumping my chopper |
| I’ma hit him with fifty, he don’t need a doctor |
| When I see me a Perc', bitch, you know I’ma pop it |
| And just like a baby, sip out the bottle |
| I’m gone off these drugs, I know I don’t need it |
| I’m sippin' on yellow, they calling me Beezy |
| She sucking my dick and I love when she please me |
| Fucked her with her friend, they double teaming |
| I’m on Mary Jane and Percy Jackson |
| I need to slow down on these drugs, think that I’m an addict |
| We livin' this murder, you know we not capping |
| And just like the cable, we bringing the static |
| I’m stretching these niggas, they call me elastic |
| Cut him into half like I’m doing a fraction (Yeah, yeah) |
| Ain’t no squares in my circle, bitch, I’m strapped like I’m Urkel |
| If he dissing on me, swear to God I’ma hurt him |
| I put him in the dirt while I’m rocking some Birkins |
| And bitch, I’m a pimp, every ho 'round me working |
| Money turned clean, it was too damn dirty |
| Keep me a thirty like Stephen Curry |
| The opp say he gon' kill me, nigga, I ain’t worried |
| Up my Glock, then shoot it in a hurry |
| Ayy, I got niggas, they gon' work it, they’ll hit you, hey, hey |
| And all my niggas, they gon' up it off the dribble, hey, hey |
| And I got pistols that go pop pop, knock your gristle, hey, hey |
| And I won’t miss you, nah, nah, nah, nah, I won’t miss you, hey, hey |
| I got hitters, I got hitters, I got hitters (I got hitters) |
| I got hitters, I got hitters, I got hitters (I got hitters) |
| I got niggas that kill for me off the dribble (Off the dribble) |
| I got hitters, I got hitters, I got hitters (I got hitters) |
| Oh, oh, I got that, hey |
| Tell me how the fuck a nigga gon' carry pistols |
| And a nigga pop that, you ain’t pop back? |
| Yeah |
| Real live shooter would’ve shot back, hey |
| Cop killer, booty knock your top back, hey |
| That’s a ho tryna ride my jock strap, ayy |
| Ate the nut out my gut when I got back, ayy |
| Gave a nigga that back so I rocked that, yeah |
| Real diamonds, nigga, go and rock that, ayy |
| Ball hard, ball hard, pop that tag |
| Would’ve scored forty pounds when I bought my shag |
| Ayy, come on with it |
| You want that work, then come on, get it |
| Nigga talkin' 'bout bags, say I’m all in it |
| You ain’t gotta worry, baby, I’ma come on with it |
| Chase that sack on my own mission |
| Oldhead niggas say I don’t listen |
| My daddy always told me keep the firearm with me |
| If a nigga play crazy, I’ma fire on a nigga |
| I drop that bag, they gon' kill you off the dribble |
| Say you make me mad, make that funk, I off a nigga |
| Yeah, for them racks, they gon' come pop a nigga |
| I got hitters, I got hitters, I got hitters (I got hitters) |
| Ayy, I got niggas, they gon' work it, they’ll hit you, hey, hey |
| And all my niggas, they gon' up it off the dribble, hey, hey |
| And I got pistols that go pop pop, knock your gristle, hey, hey |
| And I won’t miss you, nah, nah, nah, nah, I won’t miss you, hey, hey |
| I got hitters, I got hitters, I got hitters (I got hitters) |
| I got hitters, I got hitters, I got hitters (I got hitters) |
| I got niggas that kill for me off the dribble (Off the dribble) |
| I got hitters, I got hitters, I got hitters (I got hitters) |