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Joss Stone - The Hit List lyrics
Intro:
 Huh yeah yeah. Saafir in the house youknowhatI'msayin'? Layin' it down with 
 my nigga Sonnie Black. About to spit this shit to you. You might be on this 
 motherfucker man. You know?
 Saafir:
 Since the death of the first two icons I be wonderin'
 Who's gonna be the next to plummet in the dirt
 Somebody is puttin' in major work
 And drop the line of these top the line rhymer you know who was the first
 And the second MC 
 The shit temps me
 To keep practicing my aim at the shooting range
 And keep my vest 
 In close range to my chest
 Say a prayer to the game 
 Cause she won't be the same after this 
 I heard they
 Who is they?
 I don't know 
 But you know what they say
 Don't believe it till you see it
 But now I peep the Ebony special Big Daddy Dane or Super Nat
 Death's comin' three and the shit is startin' to worry me (why?)
 Cause this shit got to be connected to a much deeper plot
 Maybe the government is fillin' it 
 Since they see them taxes of these millionaire black men rappin' 
 Imagin' if they got fed up and attached a contract
 To touch these pathetic lips 
 Believe me 
 It would be called
 Hook:
 The Hit List
 But it never happens to you if you're hitless
 So you better stay sharp in you mental fitness
 And always holla at your follies about business
 What is this? The Hit List
 Saafir:
 The newspapers read
 "De La Soul Is Dead"
 The Stakes Is Higher than Hell fire Joss Stone - The Hit List - http://motolyrics.com/joss-stone/the-hit-list-lyrics.html
 Shocking news travels like a live wire
 To the Mississippi connect
 Brought in from a club bathroom 
 Bartender slipped him a Mickey
 Everybody in hip hop is trigger itchy
 One of the Pharcyde got smoked in a hotel in Perkipsey
 Upstate with no backin' I'm packin' heat 
 Like an immigrant work Nike factory
 I feel like somebody is watchin' me 
 I got eyes in the back of my head and under my balls
 Cassette from outside bathroom door stall
 Watchin' my back without a pause
 Scarface in Houston tryin' not to catch a bullet scar
 Ridin' to the studio in bulletproof cars
 ATF had a shootout ? wait with FaceMob 
 A cashier worker and a grocery bagger was tagged up
 Body bagged up
 Pedestrians meeting the concrete 
 Gettin' faces and body parts scrapped up
 Face Mob swervin' through as they may ? (screeching)
Hook
 Sonnie Black:
 What is this the Hit List
 The Hit List some sick shit over glove shit
 Mr. Sonnie Black the fly ass tracks jack
 You slippin' like bait on a fishing rod 
 I'm tryin' to manipulate your fate
 I'm tryin' to get you God
 Cause you tailored my made me good and plenty
 Your soldiers turned GI Jane more (Moore) than Demi
 Keep your hustle on kinko
 God got blessings to give me
 Saafir:
 On Remy and a night chair 
 Spit my plot to my partners and hoes sittin' around in nightwear
 Crackin' a window a slight air
 A nigga feel twisted 
 The story 
 The Hit List








