Hitman 47 Y2 (Ft. T.F)

(Verse 1): Y2
First of the month up early
Bone and my chucks ain't dirty
Wrong holy ghost don't go stomp in the war zone lurking
When them niggas asking questions bout to catch ya nonsense
At cha throat like it's over then hop up in that Bronco
On ya head so be careful you tell you head honcho
Habanero on steroids you know them bullets hot hoe
Don't be silly that really don't mean ya man Macho
Savages bad as half of these niggas wearing dark clothes
Heart cold vato got those stop playing ah mane
So sane cocaine K-9's get down ah mane
The devils dance wit us, ate cha face a tarantula
Etoufee wita candle and camera, cash can't imagine us
Ancestors voices in my head like don't embarrass us
A product probably the hardest just not aware of it
That nigga feelin' himself he gon' feel the air in it
You think you leaving wit Jesus that's not a guarantee

Who shot cha?
S'good question
Good question
Hardly ever pray
Something still bless him

Steel on my side while I'm whippin' that wheel, Yea
Tool on my niggas that do know the drill, Yea
No love for snitches dat dem no foreal, Yea
Shots off you pop off it's kill or be killed, Yea