| My hitman don’t take a day off |
| My hitman don’t take a day off (Slimeball) |
| My hitman don’t take a day off |
| My hitman don’t take a day off |
| Yeah, the drum is a 808 and it’s sittin' on the bottom of a 308 (Huh?) |
| I don’t really know how to |
| , but you know I eat beef, I’ma kill an altercation (Keed, talk to 'em) |
| Yeah, I’m drippin', I stunt on these motherfuckers |
| All this jewelry, I can’t hide from your baby mother |
| She a real headhunter, she eat the rubber |
| Tote my Cuban links on me, my neck is cluttered |
| Told my daughter, «Don't worry, you know you covered» |
| She be jumpin' on the bed with the Fendi covers |
| I got rid of them boys who ain’t really love me |
| No, you can’t call 'bout your fuckin' money |
| Yeah, I’m too blessed for 'em, so I went and got rich |
| I got the Rolls truck, yeah, the Cullinan |
| Yeah, when I feel like I can pee on the bitch |
| Yeah, they know I’m as hot as it get |
| I’m hot as a brick, came from the bricks |
| Yeah, if a rat nigga diss, then he get hit with that stick |
| It’ll be more than a war that you spit |
| Why these niggas be hatin' on this shit? |
| They know I’m the top of the list |
| Yeah, I put the hood on my back, then went and took me a risk |
| Three-sixty-five, how many times a young nigga changed up the wrist? |
| Yeah, I can’t even count how many times you came right back to my dick (Okay, |
| let’s go) |
| My hitman don’t take a day off |
| My hitman don’t take a day off (Slimeball) |
| My hitman don’t take a day off |
| My hitman don’t take a day off |
| Yeah, the drum is a 808 and it’s sittin' on the bottom of a 308 |
| I don’t really know how to |
| , but you know I eat beef, I’ma kill an altercation (Keed, talk to 'em) |
| No cap, I stunt on these motherfuckers (No kizzy) |
| Drop a 30 in a mall, I’m swishing buckets |
| F&Ns that’s I’m totin', they’ll pin his cushion |
| And these slimes that I’m 'round with, they’ll kill your buddy |
| Send my shooters 'round me, I’ma real hustler |
| Michael Vick with my dawgs, it could get ugly |
| Two hundred thousand on bullets, man, fuck it |
| Put that fye in his mouth, tell 'em suck it |
| It could be a face shot, yeah, these niggas want beef? (Let's go) Yeah, |
| it’s really nothin' to talk 'bout |
| Nun' but slimes when I pop out |
| This YSL shit, ain’t nothin' bigger |
| I’m makin' one call, they get shot like a missile |
| I’m in the bank, with so many Ms |
| Young nigga with figures, they callin' me Mister |
| They send a drop, then it’s dead doc |
| All my lil' partner 'nem serve raw |
| Yeah, came from |
| road, I’m stuck in the back like the pedal |
| My folks ain’t doin' no tellin', yeah, shh, shh, yeah, they better |
| Yeah, big chopstick, yeah, F&N, nah, ain’t no Berettas (Woo, yeah) |
| My hitman don’t take a day off |
| My hitman don’t take a day off (Slimeball) |
| My hitman don’t take a day off |
| My hitman don’t take a day off |
| Yeah, the drum is a 808 and it’s sittin' on the bottom of a 308 |
| I don’t really know how to |
| , but you know I eat beef, I’ma kill an altercation |