Saafir - Hit List lyrics

rate me

Intro:

Huh yeah yeah. Saafir in the house you know what I'm sayin'?

Layin' it down with my nigga Sonnie Black.

About to spit this shit to you.

You might be on this motherfucker man.

You know?

Saafir:

Since the death of the first two icons I be wonderin'

Who's gonna be the next to plummet in the dirt

Somebody is puttin' in major work

And drop the line of these top the line rhymer you know who was the first

And the second MC

The shit temps me

To keep practicing my aim at the shooting range

And keep my vest

In close range to my chest

Say a prayer to the game

Cause she won't be the same after this

I heard they

Who is they?

I don't know

But you know what they say

Don't believe it till you see it

But now I peep the Ebony special Big Daddy Dane or Super Nat

Death's comin' three and the shit is startin' to worry me (why?)

Cause this shit got to be connected to a much deeper plot

Maybe the government is fillin' it

Since they see them taxes of these millionaire black men rappin'

Imagin' if they got fed up and attached a contract

To touch these pathetic lips

Believe me

It would be called

Hook:

The Hit List

But it never happens to you if you're hitless

So you better stay sharp in you mental fitness

And always holla at your follies about business

What is this? The Hit List

Saafir:

The newspapers read

"De La Soul Is Dead"

The Stakes Is Higher than Hell fire

Shocking news travels like a live wire

To the Mississippi connect

Brought in from a club bathroom

Bartender slipped him a Mickey

Everybody in hip hop is trigger itchy

One of the Pharcyde got smoked in a hotel in Perkipsey

Upstate with no backin' I'm packin' heat

Like an immigrant work Nike factory

I feel like somebody is watchin' me

I got eyes in the back of my head and under my balls

Cassette from outside bathroom door stall

Watchin' my back without a pause

Scarface in Houston tryin' not to catch a bullet scar

Ridin' to the studio in bulletproof cars

ATF had a shootout ? wait with FaceMob

A cashier worker and a grocery bagger was tagged up

Body bagged up

Pedestrians meeting the concrete

Gettin' faces and body parts scrapped up

Face Mob swervin' through as they may ? (screeching)

Hook

Sonnie Black:

What is this the Hit List

The Hit List some sick shit over glove shit

Mr. Sonnie Black the fly ass tracks jack

You slippin' like bait on a fishing rod

I'm tryin' to manipulate your fate

I'm tryin' to get you God

Cause you tailored my made me good and plenty

Your soldiers turned GI Jane more (Moore) than Demi

Keep your hustle on kinko

God got blessings to give me

Saafir:

On Remy and a night chair

Spit my plot to my partners and hoes sittin' around in nightwear

Crackin' a window a slight air

A nigga feel twisted

The story

The Hit List