Lyrics On Call - Hitman & Jet 2
Yeah...
2 a.m.,
my
nigga;
too
early
for
that
bullshit...
fuck
Yeah,
flow
creative,
you're
not
adjacent
Yo'
shit
ain't
bangin',
my
nigga
face
it
Try
and
compare
to
me,
boy
I'll
leave
you
face-less
You
can't
be
irregular
when
yo'
shit
is
basic
Find
a
replacement,
never
been
the
case
since
I've
been
chasin'
After
my
thoughts
like
my
intellect
and
mind
are
racin'
Audi
5,000,
bitch
I'm
kinda
crazy,
someone
cage
me
I
broke
a
couple
hearts,
I'll
never
ask
you
why
you
hate
me
Fuck
it,
let's
take
it
there
like
here
With
the
letter
"T"
in
the
front
Don't
front,
cause
you
most
likely
would
end
up
gettin'
crossed
With
two
left
feet
when
you're
dancin'
with
the
stars
They
couldn't
catch
the
beat
when
they
found
me
on
Mars
Puttin'
in
work
like
they
got
me
on
call
Puttin'
in
work
like
they
got
me
on
call
They
don't
want
war
when
the
package
too
raw
(mutha
fucka
whussup)
Look...
Jet
on
the
production,
boy
yo'
shit
ain't
nothin'
Yo'
chick
been
on
my
dick,
we
might
as
well
be
fuckin'
I
know
if
you
just
like
her,
couldn't
wife
her
end
discussion
It's
crazy
how
you
background
niggas
always
frontin'
I'm
in
a
crew
where
my
views
are
perfectly
angled
So
you
perfectly
strangled,
ride
out
like
fuckin'
Durangos
Fast
like
Usain
Bolt,
or
Yohan
Blake,
yo
nigga's
a
mango
I
touch
it
right,
it
look
like
she
doin'
the
tango,
yeah
Fuck
it,
let's
take
it
there
like
here
With
the
letter
"T"
in
the
front
Don't
front,
cause
you
most
likely
would
end
up
gettin'
crossed
With
two
left
feet
when
you're
dancin'
with
the
stars
They
couldn't
catch
the
beat
when
they
found
me
on
Mars
Puttin'
in
work
like
they
got
me
on
call
Puttin'
in
work
like
they
got
me
on
call
They
don't
want
war
when
the
package
too
raw
(mutha
fucka
whussup)
I
got
a
issue
competin'
with
niggas
soft
as
tissue
My
brodie
told
me
to
never
sweat
it
when
niggas
diss
you
Probably
just
jealous
of
yo'
position,
ain't
had
to
listen
To
all
irrelevance
even
if
it's
a
longer
mission
Hitman,
tell
'em
it's
all
commitment
in
our
defenses
They
all
defenseless,
we
wash
the
dishes
and
Palmolive
'em
Easy
greasy
like
oil,
we
boil
y'all
good
riddens
Umm,
clean
plates,
no
longer
a
hard
decision
Man
you
so
right,
like
good
cooch,
I'm
so
tight
On
the
mic
we
spazz
overnight
'til
that
shit
pass
Then
go
rock
a
show,
all
cash
Break
bread
with
my
peeps
And
I
always
keep
it
one
hundred
so
I
never
have
to
sneak,
ooh
And
if
she
tell
me
that
the
head
right
I'll
be
there
everyday,
every
night
If
she
tell
me
that
the
head
right
I'll
be
there
everyday,
every
night
Fuck
it,
let's
take
it
there
like
here
With
the
letter
"T"
in
the
front
Don't
front,
cause
you
most
likely
would
end
up
gettin'
crossed
With
two
left
feet
when
you're
dancin'
with
the
stars
They
couldn't
catch
the
beat
when
they
found
me
on
Mars
Puttin'
in
work
like
they
got
me
on
call
Puttin'
in
work
like
they
got
me
on
call
They
don't
want
war
when
the
package
too
raw
(mutha
fucka
whussup)
Black
boy,
eff
the
tabloids
With
large
space
bars,
you
could
play
an
asteroid
When
I
see
you
in
the
crowd,
make
mad
noise
We
fill
her
out
like
an
app,
not
an
android
Ever
played
handball
with
an
anvil
And
missed
the
handball
and
hit
the
damn
anvil
Then
you
wondered
what
you
would
be
doin'
if
you
didn't
play?
Fuckin'
wit'
Wrekless
wrong,
that's
how
that
feels
Runnin'
the
globe
at
a
standstill
like
a
treadmill
Crashin'
with
money
is
like
NFL
how
we
ram-bills
In
the
air
with
the
wings
of
a
buffalo,
I
still
land
still
Murderin'
verses
proves
a
sweetheart
can
kill
Shit,
I'm
better
than
what
you
seen
like
a
cam
reel
Filmin'
me
and
Suzie
as
I
show
her
the
damn
dill
Pickle
as
I
tickle
her
inner-cell
with
no
sickle
I'm
cold
as
an
icicle
I
sickle
well
Enough
for
hell
to
sizzle
over
as
she
rides
like
a
bicycle
A
little
more
balance,
a
tricycle
But
as
fast
as
Tyson
goes
In
the
hundred
to
keep
it
one
hundred
like
four
quarters
I'm
boucin'
in
them
walls
and
all
four
corners
I'm
feelin'
like
Fuck
it,
let's
take
it
there
like
here
With
the
letter
"T"
in
the
front
Don't
front,
cause
you
most
likely
would
end
up
gettin'
crossed
With
two
left
feet
when
you're
dancin'
with
the
stars
They
couldn't
catch
the
beat
when
they
found
me
on
Mars
Puttin'
in
work
like
they
got
me
on
call
Puttin'
in
work
like
they
got
me
on
call
They
don't
want
war
when
the
package
too
raw
(mutha
fucka
whussup)
1 Past The Mic
2 On Call
3 Ease Ya Mind
4 Gatorade
5 Down
6 Nelson
7 What I Like
8 Scorpio
9 Air
10 Roll It Up
11 Imagine
12 2cool4skool [Bonus Track]
13 Ego Games [Bonus Track]
14 Post Plain Target [Bonus Track]
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