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Hitlist
[Intro: Gunna]
(I just told Richie we rich)

[Chorus]
Riding 'round town wit' a F&N
Pocket full of white guys, dead presidents
We gon' spin your block, leave no evidence
Leave no witness
I just scratched your bitch right off my hitlist

[Post-Chorus]
I know you sick, know you mad
Off these Percs, I swear to God, I don't know how to act
Jump in that pussy, jump in that pussy, it wet like a ocean
Bean in my lean
N***a, try me

[Verse]
He gon' need a gun for me
You can't afford to die
I get off these drugs and I feel like I could touch the sky
I'm drinking on Henny
Broke-ass n***a, boy, you probably still shop at JC Penney
Mama told me I was a star
You still stay wit' your mama wit' no job and no car
Finna sign a deal for a couple commas
I'ma turn around, give that to my mama