Hit 'em High & Hit 'em Low Lyrics

My rhymes are Feng shui

Nines are gun play

I been praying for war all week and twice on Sunday

I got plenty of ammunition and lines to run game

Gamble lovin' the bitches

And bitches they love J

She was hot as a barbecue

Hop in the car with Hugh

I'll take you to 42nd street

But we ain't stopping at Target, boo

Rapping aint hard to do

I'm going hard on every mother fucking track

That I'm tapping my heart into

Yo, what up?

Puffing herb

That's word to the fucking bird

Birds fucking and bees humping

That's what we learned

Bite my rhymes

You'll bite the fucking curb

Like it's nothing, sir

I'm judging your ass like justice served

We hit 'em high

Ain't no mountain high enough

Yo, we hit 'em low

I'm hearing that it's drying up

Is a couple pies enough?

Nah, we need a hundred pies a month, so

We hit 'em high and hit' em low

You don't wanna fuckin' brag

Bitches like you come and go

Why they call you money bags?

You don't got that kind of doe

You thinkin' that you fuckin' bad

It's time for the fuckin' show

Dump another fuckin' mag

We hit 'em high and hit 'em low

Yo, I'm pretty fly for a white guy

I'm talking Sci-Fi nerd in a tie-dye shirt

Smoking weed when I drive by

You know this beat is pretty tight, Guy

I'm cooking up pad Thai on the Akai

Like I'm Iron Chef Sakai

Bye bye, birdie

I'm sending pies down south

Don't be thinking that my guys dirty

I move 'em quicker than liquid at high tide

Here's a high five, we didn't die by 30

Nobody's perfect

Don't criticize

The flu gets her in the mood

The dope gets her by

I can be in two places at the same time

You should've seen her face when she changed minds

I'm hitting the gas

Giving her Nicholas Cage vibes

Riches were made

Stickin' my dick in the grave vibes

Bitches were paid

Fucking two chicks at the same time

Bangin' this shit

Throwing' up gang signs

We hit 'em high and hit' em low

You don't wanna fuckin' brag

Bitches like you come and go

Why they call you money bags?

You don't got that kind of doe

You thinkin' that you fuckin' bad

It's time for the fuckin' show

Dump another fuckin' mag

We hit 'em high and hit 'em low

We hit 'em high and hit' em low

You don't wanna fuckin' brag

Bitches like you come and go

Why they call you money bags?

You don't got that kind of doe

You thinkin' that you fuckin' bad

It's time for the fuckin' show

Dump another fuckin' mag

We hit 'em high and hit 'em low