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Hit \'Em Get \'Em
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Aranza
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1
Chorus (Fiend):
2
Watch me hit 'em! Watch me lit 'em!
3
Unh, unh,
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Watch me hit 'em! Watch me get 'em then my nine split 'em!
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(2x)
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First Verse (J-Dawg):
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I done more dirt than a lil',
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But still,
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Gotta feel for the 1-8-7,
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And once you get done
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then I'm on the run with a naked gun like Mr. Drebin,
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I'm tellin' you niggas to watch your back,
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I peel more caps than a jap take pictures,
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A nigga that be down to get wit'cha when I be livin'up off the liquor,
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I figure the bigger the cap,
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the bigger the blood stain is on the black top,
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I get fat props when the gat pop, as I try to close that flat top,
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I stick around til' you black out, hit the back route,
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Duckin' po-po's,
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One time can't identify, because I'm dressed in hoe clothes,
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But even Bo knows what a strap does, when I stash mine in a stash box,
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No weapons or witnesses drop the case or get that ass dropped,
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Mr. D-A, you want a replay? How the G play, with some fucked nerves,
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My nine strap be buckin' as I'm stalkin' through the suburbs,
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Can't stop what you don't understand, told you fool I'm loced out,
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Shoulda broke out, your life ain't worth a dime when I get smoked out,
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The ghetto's where I dwell, dumpin' shells up out the window,
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Smokin' indo, get lit and treat my homies like my kinfolk,
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I been loced since day one, I'm true to self and that's all,
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I pass you like a fastball,
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When it's last call for alcohol,
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Drink hennessey like a fish, piss me off and it's your final down,
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Fully automatic makin' you bitch-made niggas bow down,
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What I found now,
35
Is that life ain't nothin' but time to try and come up,
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Wanna be round to raise my son up,
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Ain't about to put my gun up,
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Run up nigga you get done up,
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Blazin' a blunt, so when I come duck,
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Lyin' about you murdered niggas knowin' you ain't done fuck,
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You punk bitch
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Chorus
43
Second Verse (Threat + J-Dawg):
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(Threat)
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As I bails through the swamp I see faces of death,
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All my partners gettin' broke off with no traces left,
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Break yourself, see me, unloadin' with the glock nine,
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Refuse to stop crime,
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So it's sin though, through your nostril,
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Pump on that afro and away bitch I dumps off,
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Clothes off, there's a two eleven in progress so I just,
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Gets gone in the wind with my papers,
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Capers,
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And pull full time since I pulled my first nine,
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Stick up another victim,
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Cop, before I kick up,
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Dust, bust the two while the seventeen fled the scene,
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Blaze the sack, my mind reacts,
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To jack mode,
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Road to riches, squeeze glocks to need not,
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My nine to five is homicide,
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It's do or die,
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Me and niener be tag teamin' like Bonnie & Clyde
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(J-Dawg)
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M-I-S-T-A J-Dawg L-O-C nigga you can't see this,
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I be this, NIG-ER-RO that's been locin' since the fetus,
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I'm comin' up on the quick fast, I'm lovin' this life I'm livin',
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I'm givin' no nigga no time to bust back,
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I'm quick to peel your cap, I'll fill your lap,
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Would've spilled your naps and left you open like a liquor store,
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Reachin' for niener but comin' up short 'fo you could get the hoe,
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Now hit the floor and bleed as I proceed to open your chest up,
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Let's check guts, who's next up?
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To get wet for tryin' to flex nuts,
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I'm penetratin' your kidneys, don't get soft you're coughin' up blood,
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I'm tossin' up slugs,
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you ain't tough enough so I'm fuckin' up your Kool-Aid jug,
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I watch 'em tote you like a book bag,
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Put the clip in the Mac
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and the zip in the sack and they haul your bitch ass
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off with your foot tagged, fool,
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Anybody killa, graveyard filler,
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Cap peeler,
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Glock clamped tight,
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For life is what that Camp like
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Chorus
87
Third Verse (Threat):
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Another payday with the AK, as I stay back, with the gun cocked,
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One shot, put his brains up on the canvas,
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It's scandoulous,
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From the East Bank, to the West Bank, these niggas peelin' caps,
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Givin' dirt naps to you busta muthafuckas pack your gat,
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See the jealous got me strapped, rollin' craps could be dangerous,
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Gotta pay roll for the killas that be quick to let the stainless bust,
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Flesh change to dust, ain't no risin' up in three days,
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Cuz a G plays for keeps, when a sweeper sweep the street,
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Niggas best to haul ass, come clean or get your neck broke,
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When the Tec smoke clears I disappear like David Copperfield,
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Got a proper deal with a proper steal,
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Grounds off-limits,
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Yellow tape and dead bodies, bitch you fuckin' with a menace,
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Bodies comin' up stale
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Chorus
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