(I got Hitman on the beat)
There ain’t no love for her
I been M.I.A. though
(Marcuss, you killin’ the beat)
I ain’t even gon’ blink
I’ma be one who never
Ayy, fuck ya, fuck ya too
Murder gang
I ain’t tryna say a thing, nigga, I can barely think
I said I quit for seven days, and then I’m back on drank
I been tryna calm down, nigga, you should do the same
Still ain’t puttin’ these guns down, all I know is leave a stain
Hold on, I got a reason ’bout why I came through bleedin’
Bitch, this for my brothers up in jail, and they can’t see me
Real gang baby, dealin’ with these demons, it ain’t easy
They say that I go crazy, pistols blazin’, straps got built-in beams in
If I said it, bitch, I mean it
Gettin’ dirty with my clean ass
Double R, back then, it used to be a blue Jag’
Dirty bitch just want cash, fall for it, my wrong ass
Play games, I can’t pass
Only thing I want is you smashed
Dirty bitch, you ain’t my ho, don’t call my phone with your dog ass
You fuckin’ ’round with the other side, don’t be inside when that car crash
Four flat, with my hood on, got a twelve gauge like I’m Milat
Nawfside, better not spin through that
Pussy nigga won’t make it back, XD and a fully MAC
Youngin’ out the window like, “I told ya” (bitch, I told ya)
Tryna knock your motherfuckin’ head from off your shoulders
You want beef? Okay, I been doin’ this for too long, son (bet)
I say, “Murder, you know we gon’ get you gone, son” (stretch)
I ain’t tryna say a thing, nigga, I can barely think
I said I quit for seven days, and then I’m back on drank
I been tryna calm down, nigga, you should do the same
Still ain’t puttin’ these guns down, all I know is leave a stain
Hold on, I got a reason ’bout why I came through bleedin’
Bitch, this for my brothers up in jail, and they can’t see me
Real gang baby, dealin’ with these demons, it ain’t easy
They say that I go crazy, pistols blazin’, straps got built-in beams in
Ain’t with me, I say that they all around for that reason
Oh Lord, tell ’em, “Fuck ’em,” now they say that they don’t need me
They can’t get that money on they own, so they subpoena me
Hold on, broke bitch, my top back, one opp black, red scenery
I’m the one who pulled up luxury machine
I’m the one who made them youngins go step on him
Fuck that nigga can’t rep off me, murder, we gon’ take that shit to third degree
Talkin’ at one time, stretch three
Talkin’ at one time, kill three
FN-45 with a hammer, Drac’ with a drum, thirty-round banana
They blow that strap back after back
If one connect, that bitch gon’ slam ’em
Red tips we gon’ handle him
Pallbearers, I’ma hand ’em him
My thoughts gone, whole life just temp’
I ain’t tryna say a thing, nigga, I can barely think
I said I quit for seven days, and then I’m back on drank
I been tryna calm down, nigga, you should do the same
Still ain’t puttin’ these guns down, all I know is leave a stain
Hold on, I got a reason ’bout why I came through bleedin’
Bitch, this for my brothers up in jail, and they can’t see me
Real gang baby, dealin’ with these demons, it ain’t easy
They say that I go crazy, pistols blazin’, straps got built-in beams in
I got Hitman on the beat
(Marcuss, you killin’ the beat)
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