YG (Keenon Daequan Ray Jackson) HITMAN

Tekst piosenki

[Intro]
This isn’t a revenge story, it’s not even about justice
It’s about fixing a mistake, one that’s very hard to ignore
Something went wrong, something or someone felt challenged
Now to make things right, that person must be eliminated
Not out of anger, not out of guilt, but out of respect
We offer a service, clean, precise, permanent
Because sometimes the only way to fix the problem is to gеt rid of the problem
You may think this is a decision, but it was madе long before you arrived

[Verse 1]
Well, okay, dear Hitman, how much for a hit?
It’s a nigga I want gone, hawk-tuh, he make me sick
Motherfucker think he tough ’cause he been getting sick
I hope he got a O-line ’cause I’m finna send a blitz
I really hate his soul, I hate the nigga the most
If I could, I’d look him straight in his eyes and slit his throat
I’m tired of this nigga, it’s time for him to go
Well, before I press go, it’s some things I need to know
Well, what?
How he look in the car he drive in and such
Man, that nigga ugly as fuck, but I think he drive a truck
It’s black, but he getting money, so he probably done switched it up
Goddamn, all these questions, is you done, what the fuck?
Boy, calm your tone when you talking to me
’Cause proper planning prevents trail from police
Man, just get the job done and I’ma say the least
Tell me what’s the tab, I’ll pay it this week

[Chorus]
I don’t like you
And you don’t like me
The last man standing
Is how it’s gon’ be
’Cause I don’t like you (Like you)
And you don’t like me (Like me)
The last man standing (Last man standing)
Is how it’s gotta be (Is how it’s gotta be)

[Verse 2]
It’s been a whole week, Hit ain’t answer his phone
I hope he sitting outside that motherfucker’s home
Probably wanna know why I hate his fucking soul
You probably think he fucked my bitch, well, hell no
Come on, bro, it’s deeper than it seems
I’ve been beefing with this nigga since I was a teen
I should’ve killed him back then when he took my jeans
And now I hate how he think he got one up on me
Bitch, please, ol’ stuttering-ass nigga
U-u-u-u-u-ugly-motherfucking-ass nigga
A-a-a-a-at you, I fucking laugh, nigga
Over a bitch, going out sad, nigga
Crash out king, he’s a liability
Get him out the way with all my ability, skillfully
It should be a easy hit
He walk with a limp ’cause he got shot in the dick, really, though
You need to pick up your phone
Or hurry up and put this motherfucker where he belong
I’ma call you in a week and see what you on
Hitman, this motherfucker better be gone

[Chorus]
I don’t like you
And you don’t like me
The last man standing
Is how it’s gon’ be
’Cause I don’t like you (Like you)
And you don’t like me (Like me)
The last man standing (Last man standing)
Is how it’s gotta be (Is how it’s gotta be)

[Verse 3]
Dear Mr. Hitman, I gave you your orders
Hurry up and get this nigga gone, away from my daughters
All this talking on the phone, hope they don’t record us
For every day he live longer, that’s a thousand shorter
So I hang up, he call back sounding mad
He like, „How you gon’ try to renegotiate the bag? Fuck is that?”
Well, this shit taking too long
What type of hitman is you? You niggas faker than funk
I gave you the addy, I gave you where he at, where he hide
I told you he ugly as fuck, the car is black that he drive
I told you he full of pride and probably ready to slide
And most likely got a strap on his left-hand side
What the fuck else do you need? I’m tired
You about a millimeter away from getting your ass fired
He’s a threat to the family, I need him unalive
Then he replied, „Chill, he just hard to find”
I’m starting to think that Hitman is green
’Cause I gave him every drop, so how the fuck he ain’t seen?
I’m pretty sure he wearing the color red and some jeans
With a fresh cut under, cherry red Philly, P
Matter of fact, fuck that, hitman, we gotta meet
He sent the addy so close, I’m walking on my feet
Literally, he directly across the street
Kinda glad I only paid him half the cash last week
So I walk up from behind, yeah, he ain’t notice the G
Tapped him on his shoulder like, fuck, I ain’t even think
He turned around and cherry red Philly is what he see
Yeah, Hitman, you was supposed to kill me (Supposed to kill the old me)