About This Track
"Hitman's Diary" is a track by Kool G Rap, from the album Roots of Evil, released 20th October 1998. Full lyrics are available below.
About the Artist
Lyrics
[Production by Dr. Butcher] [Hook] Yo it's a hit, you picked the wrong cat to fuck with The wrong thug kid to buck with, you better duck quick Or get your shit split, with infinite shit, from outta the clip Niggas is struck with the underworld click [Verse 1] Yo it was midnight n' rainy and, spotted these three Panamanians Gold chains, and carryin' Iranians Pulled out to stain-y and, these cats might try to flame me And shit, might be hit sent from this bitch nigga Damien Used to slang 'caine, back to back, up in this game we in Went against the grain when he got banged in his cranium Now he got cats all on my back, tryin to bang me and From Peru, flew in a crew of evil, now shit is lethal Drew the Eagle, blew about two And made one of them dudes see-through, but I still see two Of his peoples, up in a Regal, and they got heat to equal Shit that got put at Benny Siegel, fuck these illegal Alien-ass niggas out of the grass Put extra clips up on the dash and continued to blast Fire flashed, I left another one of em splashed A bloodbath, three niggas found dead on the ave Went to a phone and hit my nigga Big C, swiftly Yo dig this shit G, these niggas tried to hit me Yo meet me in about fifty, with Big Ash, we movin' quickly I'm about to hit D, put that motherfucker six feet "Aiyyo what happened G?" Niggas on the ave was clappin' at me Bustin' at me, tryin' a put caps in my nappy "Yo, as long as you made it kid I'm happy" We still goin' to where this cat be, with AK's all day Called up my nigga Jay, call the nigga Damien for me, okay? Make it about 3:38, straight, this is what you say "Aiyyo we fucked up, he got away" If he play, I'm a split his toupee, we on our way To this nigga's office, with armed forces, he showin' softness And watchin, horses racin' with other bosses Pulled out the torches, the nigga saw the guns, got stunned He probably got numb, knowin' he bout to catch a hot one Terrorizin' the whole spot son, the phone rung He acted like it was the wrong number, lookin' all dumb Hands on the Glock spun, five minutes later, the shots rung That nigga got done, died with his hand on a cocked gun [Hook](x2) [Verse 2] February 14 in '95, time: about 4:45 I'm coppin' pies in a high-rise Dealin with shit like this you need five eyes, dinosaur size These fuckin' cha-cha's, have you covered with flies Came in with two wiseguys, fuckin' guns big as life-size Had the chick up on the bed and shit, with the nice thighs Yo senorita, mamacita, wish to plead with the boricua cliqua Arriba, flash the heat-ahs We started talkin, seconds later two Cubans walked in Haulin' package of silver chalk in, shit ain't the raw and Became a war man, he put two in my man's internal organs Before the poison, drown a fuckin' free man like Morgan Two hit the floorin' with blood pourin' left em snorin' Their wigs tore in, layin' all up against the door then Them niggas sprayed, I caught a slug in my shoulder blade My boulder grazed, I'm catchin' flashbacks of older days In the small caves, I'm dazed and shit She goin' a bed with the spray shit, tryin' a lay shit OK bitch, and fuck the gay shit, started to lay shit And left the brave bitch wet, part of her neck and face hit Emptied the clip, then replaced it Niggas is on the floor tomato pasted Wasted, spirit erased it Body case it, went to the other side, embrace it The whole place is lit, we Scarface the shit Cigar case n' shit, on some marksmen shit One nigga strainin' moanin' in pain aimin' his biscuit My man fixed it, left him with his wig twisted Wipe all my fingerprint ballistics, went to the other room And saw the brick shit, straight legit shit, bag it and zip it Left out the front door like we ain't do shit [Hook](x2)
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