HIT ‘EM BACK

I don’t need no motherfuckin’ friends,

Fake-ass bitches, snakes in the ends.

Talk tough on the mic, but you weak in the flesh,

Cross me once, motherfucker, that’s a death sentence.

Grab your Glock when you see me ride,

Ain’t no love, just bullets fly.

You tried to bury me alive,

Now you feel the wrath of the other side.

(We hit ‘em back, hit ‘em back, motherfucker!)

First off — fuck your clique and the lies you claim,

Y’all some studio gangstas, bitch, stay in your lane.

I came up broke, fists bloody, eyes black,

You came up soft, bitch, suckin’ dick for a contract.

You claim you a boss, but you bend for cash,

I’ve seen real killers put steel through your ass.

I’m a product of the block, raised deep in the fight,

Where we load clips in the dark and pray to see the night.

You talk Versace, I talk war scars,

Five bullets couldn’t drop me, I still spit bars.

You a counterfeit thug, a fraud in disguise,

I see pussy in your soul when I look in your eyes.

Grab your Glock when you see me ride,

Ain’t no love, just bullets fly.

You tried to bury me alive,

Now you feel the wrath of the other side.

(We hit ‘em back, hit ‘em back, bitch!)

I’m the ghost in your nightmares, the voice in the cell,

The one they tried to silence, but I broke outta hell.

Every word I spit’s a bullet, every bar’s a blade,

I’ll cut your bitch-ass clique, leave your legacy sprayed.

You rap about bricks, but you never moved weight,

You rap about straps, but you never bust eight.

I’m a street-made monster, I don’t bow, don’t fold,

Your empire’s paper, I’m fire, I’m cold.

Snitchin’ ass cowards runnin’ to the feds,

But I stand tall, middle finger to the feds.

I don’t need bodyguards, I don’t need no stage,

I’ll pull up solo, put a hole through your face.

Who shot first? Don’t matter, I’m alive,

Took shots to the chest, bitch, I still survived.

Now I’m gunnin’ for the throne with a pen that bleeds,

This is war on wax, this is death on beats.

Grab your Glock when you see me ride,

Ain’t no love, just bullets fly.

You tried to bury me alive,

Now you feel the wrath of the other side.

(We hit ‘em back, hit ‘em back, motherfucker!)

Enemies multiply but my circle’s tight,

One call, one squad — we erase on sight.

From the East to the West, I’m a soldier for real,

Every scar on my skin’s just proof I don’t kneel.

I don’t chase clout, I don’t beg for streams,

I built my throne in the gutter, made a kingdom from screams.

Your idols fall quick, but my name won’t fade,

I’m the shadow in the alley, I’m the blade in the shade.

So fuck your mama, fuck your crew,

Fuck your record label, and the lies you spew.

This is blood, this is war, this is legacy sealed,

When the real ride out, fake thugs get killed.

Grab your Glock when you see me ride,

Ain’t no love, just bullets fly.

You tried to bury me alive,

Now you feel the wrath of the other side.

(We hit ‘em back, hit ‘em back, hit ‘em back, bitch!)