The Hit - Shyne

Look at this nigga, stuntin in front of Justin’s, actin silly

If it wasn’t cops all over, I’d smack him with this milli

You hoe niggaz move a brick and think they rich

Get a few guns and a click and wanna take over shit

Ain’t that the same kid that shot Reg in the head?

Turned him into a carrot, he might as well have been dead

Just came home from doin ten up in the Feds

Be extortin kingpins for they horse and they bread

Had the whole Brooklyn under pressure, I’m surprised he ain’t test ya

Mad niggaz know better

I ain’t comin up offa, no cheddar, no bricks, no nothin

I’ll kick that motherfucker, FUCK HIM, yeah I’ll pay him somethin

Pay his ass a visit, blow his brains on the sidewalk

Let him collect his thoughts.

.

I’m the strongest force in New York

til I’m a corpse, and even then, I’ll be buried with bricks

and money-filled vaults, seventeen shots and two weeks later

I’m in the spot, takin it light

Watchin the Tyson fight it’s packed, uh with killers and rats

Dope dealers, money hungry bitches, malicious

Cars pilin up the block for blocks nigga, Bentleys and 6's

This the place to be, where all the — gangsters meet

As I pick up my drink, I see my man Fat Pete

But before I could walk over, two niggaz tapped him on the shoulder

and unloaded in his face, bullets flyin all over the place

Mirrors shatterin, people scatterin, his bodyguards shot back

Missed one but hit the other, in the abdomen, they both fled

But who the fuck would do somethin so — brazen and reckless?

Had to be some niggaz tryin to send a message

Next day I got a call from uptown to,

come have a meetin with The Council

bout the shit that’s been goin down

Word is, same kid that killed Fat Pete shot Reg in the head

Bottom line he’s out of control, he got to be dead

He’s startin to be a real problem

Extortin niggaz, Brooklyn through Harlem

But he fucked around and crossed the margin, touched one of ours