Hit Em Hard Lyrics - Blood Moon: Year Of The Wolf - Game

I got a black mac and a six pack 

I don't work out, I don't chit chat 

My bitch bad, I get racks 

That Rolls Royce, come gift-wrapped 

Them birds still come shrink-wrapped 

I'm not strapped, don't think that 

I'm low key with that click clack 

That rat a tat tat tat tat 

Throw the burner and I'm runnin' home 

Niggas stop being loyal when the money gone 

Still walk in this bitch, I'm a hundred strong 

One chain on my neck, feel like I got a hundred on 

Look at my flow on this bitch 

Platinum and gold on my wrist 

Money, the accountant be countin' it 

That's why I'm throwin' this shit 

I'm in BK with that SK 

Same clothes since yesterday 

With that Biggie Smalls on replay 

And I ain't wearing no vest today 

I do the Shmoney dance with this mac 

You better do it too or get Shmurda'd 

I be grilling that beef, I ain't talkin' no burgers 

I finna be walkin' like I'm a New Yorker 

I let off the K and then I hope in the Uber 

It's never a question that I am the shooter 

I empty the clip and lay you in a pool of 

Blood, see how he got hit with the Ruger? 

Blood, bandana that's how we be movin' 

Blood, swooping from Compton to Brooklyn 

And this ain't the Barclays but niggas be shootin' 

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Running niggas down back and forth 

I'm like pass the torch 

Blast it off 

Niggas making bets so who gonna blast him off 

First to score 

We gon' hit 'em hard 

We gon' hit 'em all 

First to score 

We gon' hit 'em all 

We gon' hit 'em hard 

Photos 

Running cocaina back and forth 

Copped the bag of salt 

E S to the G N 

I'm the boss dropped the package off 

Coming for the murder, masks is off 

Bitch you took a loss 

Fuck the DEA we shook 'em off 

Bitch we shook 'em off 

Shook and twist the jars 

And dope on my mommas stove top 

By the time she came back from church boy 

I bet you I had an O stocked 

In the middle of the muhfuckin' day, no more yayo, boy I done sold out 

Nigga pull up in a mothafuckin' foreign on forgies that'll bring them hoes out 

Like yeah nigga, niggas keep beggin', I pull out a pump in this bitch like I'm blizzard 

Yeah, empty your pockets, we robbin', these bitches got all of us trippin' 

Nigga, it's better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission 

You catchin' the hollow, I'm catchin'you slippin', I did it alone, only God as my witness 

My nigga got off cause we tied up the witness, and made sure the nigga couldn't show up in court 

You know the business, them niggas find out that you snitchin', them niggas gon' be at your throat 

Everyday Halloween niggas will go trick or treatin', with two tweny-three at your door 

Flippin' a check off this rappin', go back to the trap and put that in the weed and the blow like 

I just caught a body like a week ago 

These hatin' niggas want attention, I don't see 'em though 

You talk that gangsta shit, but I just can't believe it bro 

We pull up with them shots, knockin' out that European [?] 

S to the K to the E-M-E, callin' the EMT after I empted this clip 

I sold my dope right on CMT, I'm at the ING, know I'm as weird as it gets 

Chuck Taylor told me it's fuck haters, so I say fuck 'em and bury these niggas in pits 

Rolley on wrist, no toc or no tic, your girl on my dick, man come get your bitch 

Niggas think this a rap now, I might back down and come try your luck 

Riders with me be wired up, they ridin' with me till the tyres bust 

Haters talkin', but they better cool it, before that nigga Crooked get fired up 

Lay you out like my Balmains, you gotta play 'em straight, he get ironed up 

Drinkin' lean till I'm high enough, I don't give a fuck about [?] nigga 

I ain't squashin' shit, I won't call it off, I just handle mine like a man nigga 

I'm on frontline with these bands nigga 

Need a chair, I can't stand niggas 

We do walk-by's and hop outs 

Got slidin' doors on that van nigga