Hit Man - Gang Starr, Q-Tip

The hit man

His power is so great

That’s for real

Ain’t about a whole lotta talk

It’s about action, can you dig it?

He got the eye and the heart to do it, yeah

From the roof with a scope, there’s a whole art to it

Ain’t no emotion when he pulls the trigger

Brief second of silence, then you see what he do to niggas

Pistols, rifles, grenades, whatever

He’s a killin' machine, bought and paid for and clever

And way iller than the last nigga

Smoke a nigga in the club then dance right past niggas

Once in a while, there’ll be one who’ll stand out

Who’s more than psycho, who’ll take any man out

With a certain passion for sendin' bullets blastin'

A certain fashion to the way this nigga wax 'em

And this assassin gets mad satisfaction

From puttin' all this worthless scum out of action

A sense of pride in his skill

Looks in the mirror and salutes before he rides for the kill

You got the bag, pop?

I got the thing-thing

It’s in the sling, here it is, let me let it ring

With the doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo

Or do it lawn mower style, rrt

You got the bag, pop?

I got the thing-thing

It’s in the sling, here it is, let me let it ring

I got potatoes and the mufflers in the whole thing

With the fwt, doo-pa, doo-pa, doo-pa, doo-pa, doo-pa, doo-pa

Buckin' at niggas wigs while he’s puffin' on cigs

Lay him down, then he bounce out of town to another gig

It ain’t nothin', he don’t need many friends

Funded different type of weapons, he got plenty of them

If you pass him on the street or see him in his spot

He’s always calm, cool, collected, very rarely is he not

Hit man, with ice in his veins

Does the job so precise they up the price with his name

Shadowy figure, never too loose with the lip

Forty-four long in his coat, deuce-deuce on his hip

Baby nine in his boots and his trunk is full

This nigga’s on some shit and can’t be fucked with, fool

In the grimy world of highly-paid hustlers

First they get goons to muscle ya, then get him to touch ya

You wouldn’t wanna get in his way, nor his associates

Or a tombstone bearin' your name will be appropriate

You got the bag, pop?

I got the thing-thing

It’s in the sling, here it is, let me let it ring

With the doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo

Or do it lawn mower style, rrt

You got the bag, pop?

I got the thing-thing

It’s in the sling, here it is, let me let it ring

I got potatoes and the mufflers in the whole thing

With the fwt, doo-pa, doo-pa, doo-pa, doo-pa, doo-pa, doo-pa, doo-pa