Hittem Where it Hurts (feat. Sxmpra & Mvko)

Bitch, I'm ridin' with the mothafuckin' Bowie in the glovebox Hit 'em where it hurts, snatch your soul and watch the blood drop Eyes red, face blank, faded in my mugshot Whippin' while I'm smokin' while you posted at the bus stop Fuck cops HHM bitch, we a mothafuckin' must watch As a youngin' kept a quarter in my lunchbox Only runnin' from the sound of pigs and gunshots Bitch, fuck off I don't wanna have to listen to these bitin' bitches Everybody studying us, tell 'em mind they business Mothafuckas corny with this shit and I'ont get it Every lil' fuckin' thing they doin', I done did it Like a minute ago Better get your ho before she hop up in the backseat I never murdered but you shouldn't put it past me Better get that dough and hand it over need it last week Heard they talkin', but they never wanna a me Young SXMPRA never settle When I get up on the mic, it's on When a pussy mothafucka barkin', never bitin', they gone When I creep up out the catacombs, you know I'm comin' back strong Wanna beat the beast but I keep the peace until I keep it too long Yuh, murder on da beat I don't really wanna be seen, but I gotta be me All black beanie with da jeans, I'ma scheme on a team Better know what I mean like It's Schema da posse With the Hell Hound Militia We keep it killa, you feel it And all these fuckas vanilla All these little rappers get up in they fuckin feelings tell em Get up out my face if this is you that I'm hearing I'm tryna Move on up I wanna sit at the top And I got no time for mothafuckas that be talkin' a lot (What?) I'ma keep on spittin 'til I get my fuckin' pesos Lay low, schemin' like a demon to the grave hoe Pussy mothafuckas gonna wanna see me fail But I keep on fuckin killin' it 'til I'm old and fuckin' frail Motha fuckas hate me 'cause their girlfriends wanna fuck me Heart filled up with poison, lead is pumpin' through my bloodstream Talk that shit behind a desktop that shit doesn't bug me Keep that energy in person 'cause I'll make a pussy bleed Knife didn't work, you gon' need a gun to quiet me Creepin' in the bushes 'round your house, I do it silently Never trust a soul or a ho 'cause they trifling Mad because you ain't me and I'm everything you try to be Blunt lit, wrist slit, flat tires on the Chevy while I'm rollin' with a thick bitch Ten sticks and drums clips If I pull up on your block you better fuckin' run bitch Keep running your mouth, I'll be tearing out your tongue, bitch You ain't 'bout shit so I'll call you Eric King Talk tough and I'll pull up and put a hatchet in your knees Pull the burner from my waste band And send a bullet through your teeth Send your ass to hell, I promise no one gonna grieve