Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Jamahr Williams, Patrick Brown, Frederick Bell, Erin Johnson, Raymond Murray, Rico Wade
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Cool BreezeHit Man Lyrics:
Million dollas for a hit man
Hit man, hit man
Gotta represent, noise, noise, noise
What if your re-up was in this bag?
In your car, and we popped the steering wheel
And left it up by Six Flags, hit man
My whole family full of Hetland hustlas
Now tell your momma, y'all ready to move again
'Cuz we ain't nothin' but trouble
My auntie say that I don't pay attention
And call the law when she drink
And think that that's gon' make me listen
Man, I got cousins from the Dirty South
Who'll walk up to this police car
Open the door and let me out, hit man
Me and my family got the most game
Just to get close to me, brothers come around
And repeat my slang
I run this town just like Michael Jordan
Everytime I say, "Wassup?"
My whole click say, "Just east point"
Brothers come around, givin' us pounds
'Cuz our family own land in this town
Man, you could be black with a acc
Who got a boat full of smack
And you wouldn't sell a sack
We ain't nothin' but some hit men
50 thousand for a hit man
Tell the DJ, spin a hit man
East Points greatest, hit man
All the ladies need a hit man
Dungeon Family, we da hit men
We drop nothin' but them, hit men
Get down with a hit man
Cool Breeze we right here with you, and we gon' blast with you
Uhh, I was born doin' this hot season
Sellin' authentic bloodline, sent to earth to bust rhymes
Similar to a machine gun
See I fiend and seek funds
Be chiefin' like it's the last one hit man
Blast one car jacker to smithereens
If he pull the gat on you first
Give him everything but your dreams
Atlanta bound, home base, 2 over
We give chase back to the beats
Passin' by the police in the streets
Georgia on my mind
All the peaches to nibble on
Back on the grind when all your figures gone
Check this out, run with the gat, ya put the clip in it
Ah ah, then you check money for the slip in it
The world is on fire, sin is murder for hire
Whatever evil shit you desire
Easy a chameleon, forever changin'
Over colors, no more bangin'
You wanna keep dead bodies
From danglin' on the hit man
Three brothers like Backbone
We ain't nothing but some hit man
Hundred thousand for a hit man
Tell the DJ play a hit man
East Point's Greatest, hit man
All the ladies need a hit man
Dungeon Family the hit man
30 million for a hit man
It don't stop 'cause, hit man
Swats ga, through the back door
It's front street shorty
With mister Freddie Calhoun the hustla
Bringin' pain to these suckers
Off the top of the dock, wet you up like fluid
Slick, slow down, 'cuz we do really get to it 'round here
Down here it get hot, see I'm born and bred
'Til I'm dead, gon' be swat, like it or not
It's on 24, like the clock, tick tock
Convertible tops, Cavarsier on the rocks
Potna, this chrome get the attention
Don't ask me no questions
You drop your books, you lose your lessons
Son, this Dungeon Family
You understandin' me?
Act like you seen this
We on the greenest, I mean this
Whatever you feel gone, let it off
We amped up and ready to set it off
Sound off, sound off, sound off
Come on now, you see 'em bangin', hit man
All day, everyday, we got them, hit man
Understand? Ricky Ray got them, hit man
Huh? Ricky Ray got them, hit man
Sleepy Brown got them, hit man
Huh? We ain't nothing but some, hit man
Goodie Mob got them, hit man
The out got them, hit man
Outkasts got them, hit man
Cool Breeze, Witchdoctor, Lil' Will, hit man
Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, hit man
Infinity, hit man
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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