J. Gamble - Hit 'em High & Hit 'em Low

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

Written by:
Justin Gamble

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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