Saafir The Hit List lyrics

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The Hit List by Saafir The Hit List lyrics [Intro:] Huh yeah yeah. Saafir in the house youknowhatI'msayin'? 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


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