B-Lovee - HITLIST lyrics

Grrah
Ayy, too many opps man (Grrah)
Fuck them niggas, we gon'
Catch ya, that's why
Get to blickin'
I'm too hot
Grrah, ayy, grrah-grrah
Grrah, ayy
COE, all these thoughts in my head, like
And them niggas on
His bitch tryna fuck for a share, like
Bitch, I keep the Glock on my rib

Brodie said pass him the shot
He gon' walk down
Dismiss him
(Grrah)
He catch a opp, get to clickin' (Clickin')
Fuck the opps, they be dissin' like
(Fuck the opps, they be dissin')
'Til a opp nigga missin'


These niggas talkin'
But they ain't never did shit like
(Ain't ever did shit)
Why my block being mentioned? Like
(Why my block being mentioned?)
'Cause my block got attention like
(Block got attention)
Bitch, we got 40s extended like
And we known for the clickin'
(known for the clickin')
I hate talkin' 'bout opps 'cause
It's shit I can't mention
(It's shit I can't mention)
I get money, big difference
Niggas get shot and still wanna be dissin'
Niggas goofy, they all be on kid shit like
This shit gon' get scary when
I make the hitlist
No, I ain't worried, bitch
I really did shit
Up this shit in a hurry, bitch
I really blitz shit

Too many opps I can name in a zip
Rah, Lotti, that dub' never hit
Like opta, swear they be all on my dick
Send a baba, we catch her takin' a flick
Throw a L up, let it drop
We make it hot in this bitch
Hella dots on the side
Watch 'em fry in this shit
We got too many opps, they
Ain't slidin' and shit
Grrah
I be drippin'
That's the shit that I like to do
(like to do)
Up this pipin' and shit
I ain't fightin' you
(Fightin' you)
But we get to beatin' his ass
Just to stay hypin' you
Like, he don't up on the drill
He that type of dude
(He that type of dude)
I could never tote Beretta
They know me, bitch
I shoot through the sweater
Like, I get rough, I do drills, any weather
Walk down gang, tell me, who do it better?
We catch him right, bitch
We beating on optas
Bullets hot, make a opp do the cha-cha
Spinnin' what? Bitch
They ain't spinnin' my block
Smokin', niggas aimed at his māthā
Duckin' five oh
Little bro made the block hot
Spot a opp, up the heat, let the chop fly
He move to his head and
Shots from his hotspot
Bitch, I'm with the gang
So I'm feelin' like Popeye
If I'm dolie, I'm still lettin' shit fly
Like why would I lie? Up that
Shit on like six guys
No kizzy, this shit really happen
Niggas cappin', that's all for reactions
Blastin', that's on bro, I get active
Lackin', leave that boy in the past tense
(Grrah, grrah, grrah)
Put that boy all in his caption

Brodie said pass him the shot
He gon' walk down
Dismiss him
(Grrah)
He catch a opp, get to clickin' (Clickin')
Fuck the opps, they be dissin' like
'Til a opp nigga missin'
These niggas talkin'
But they ain't never did shit like
(Ain't ever did shit)
Why my block being mentioned? Like
(Why my block being mentioned?)
'Cause my block got attention like
(Block got attention)
Bitch, we got 40s extended like
And we known for the clickin'
I hate talkin' 'bout opps 'cause
It's shit I can't mention
I get money, big difference
Niggas get shot and still wanna be dissin'
Niggas goofy, they all be on kid shit like
This shit gon' get scary when
I make the hitlist
No, I ain't worried, bitch
I really did shit
Up this shit in a hurry, bitch
I really blitz shit

Bitch, I really blitz shit, like
But we don't flex what they
Make off this hitlist
Like
All them niggas on kid shit, like
Little bro get to blitzin'
Tell 'em niggas, "Just eat"
Like, bro in the cut with the
Speed like, and that 40
Ah
Grrah, but that shit bought like a speaker