lirik lagu hitting – gucci mane & tle cinco
[intro: gucci mane]
huh, 1017 mafia
tle cinco, it’s gucci
go
[chorus: tle cinco]
ayy, two*hundred k ain’t nothin’, no cap, these cap*ass n*ggas be dissin’
hey, ayy, broad day, i’ma pull up hittin’ (hittin’, hittin’, hittin’, hittin’)
they say [?] ain’t know, the f*ck? he did know
i did this sh*t for the hood and the trenches, ayy
flexin’ these racks, need designer for fees
you can’t compare me to n*ggas, i’m different, ayy
[verse 1: tle cinco]
salute to [?], n*gga, he f*cked my b*tch
i was locked up, they like “cinc’, where the f*ck you been?”
i’m sippin’ real codeine, no cup of [?]
and if i f*ck one time, i can f*ck again (ayy)
i’m on that bullsh*t right now, eighty light, be singin’, just poppin’
i got a switch on the gl!ck, turn his shirt to a nightgown
ayy, all of a sudden, n*gga dissin’, they come up missin’
ayy, i get this sh*t, just as long as thеy printed
ayy, caught me an opp, he sprintеd
hey, i’m mixin’ drank with the drank and i feel like a chemist
fine lil’ b*tch wanna drank it, pourin’
but i can’t cuff no ho’, i’m sorry (hey, hey)
i’m on the stay with a ratchet, mornin’
that fire, these n*ggas knowin’ the hardest, ayy
get paid for this sh*t, i’m a [?] artist
it ain’t f*ck with the school, i’m r*t*rded
hey, i’m in the front in the front, with a red dead [?]
this codeine red, theirs purple like barney (ayy)
five*hundred shots in this motherf*ckin’ truck
n*gga, i get the drop and i’m shootin’ it off
soon as i get the number, i’m suin’ the [?]
big boss cinc’, i’m cool as f*ck
trapped out, i can’t serve no rounds
if i can’t catch him, i’m whackin’ that man
she just slap him, blow like fan
these n*ggas cappin’, i know they a fan
i told him take off, a fact, let ’em know you ain’t chopstick
beat, i make him dance
i don’t really like that b*tch, quit playin’
i’m sayin’, get to that check and i do it again
[chorus: tle cinco & gucci mane]
ayy, two*hundred k ain’t nothin’, no cap, these cap*ass n*ggas be dissin’
hey, ayy, broad day, i’ma pull up hittin’ (hittin’, hittin’, hittin’, hittin’)
they say [?] ain’t know, the f*ck? he did know
i did this sh*t for the hood and the trenches, ayy
flexin’ these racks, need designer for fees
you can’t compare me to n*ggas, i’m different, ayy
ayy, two*hundred k ain’t nothin’, no cap, these cap*ass n*ggas be dissin’
hey, ayy, broad day, i’ma pull up hittin’ (hittin’, hittin’, hittin’, hittin’)
they say [?] ain’t know, the f*ck? he did know
i did this sh*t for the hood and the trenches, ayy
flexin’ these racks, need designer for fees
you can’t compare me to n*ggas, i’m different, ayy (go)
[verse 2: gucci mane]
ice on my neck, ice on my wrist, all of my sh*t be hittin’ (brr)
how you a rapper, ain’t makin’ no money?
boy, you should think about quittin’ (well, d*mn)
i don’t do sh*t for the love or the fun, i do this sh*t for the millions (milli’s)
rap n*gga need to just stay in they bag, but they keep stayin’ in they feelings (b*tch)
don’t bring up my ex*ho’s, i left them all in the trenches (hoes)
opinions just like ass*hoes, everyone got an opinion (opinion)
guwop teamed with cinco, we star, just like ringo
pull up and the kids scream “bingo”, b*tch keep stealin’ my lingo (well, d*mn)
standin’ on top of you, move like the mafia
who want fish scale, ’cause we keep them [?]? (skrrt)
‘wop singin’ rappers who trappers went popular
if he weren’t rappin’, they probably be robbin’ you (wow)
say you want smoke with my crew, then [?] (smoke)
know we keep two’s, we tote hammers like [?]
so icy boyz, we done broke the thermometers
stack off the winter, just dipped for the summer (it’s gucci)
[chorus: tle cinco]
ayy, two*hundred k ain’t nothin’, no cap, these cap*ass n*ggas be dissin’
hey, ayy, broad day, i’ma pull up hittin’ (hittin’, hittin’, hittin’, hittin’)
they say [?] ain’t know, the f*ck? he did know
i did this sh*t for the hood and the trenches, ayy
flexin’ these racks, need designer for fees
you can’t compare me to n*ggas, i’m different, ayy
ayy, two*hundred k ain’t nothin’, no cap, these cap*ass n*ggas be dissin’
hey, ayy, broad day, i’ma pull up hittin’ (hittin’, hittin’, hittin’, hittin’)
they say [?] ain’t know, the f*ck? he did know
i did this sh*t for the hood and the trenches, ayy
flexin’ these racks, need designer for fees
you can’t compare me to n*ggas, i’m different, ayy
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