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"Feel It (Hitlist)"

Megalon - “Feel It (Hitlist)”
[Emcee(s): Megalon]
[Producer(s): X-Ray Da Mindbenda]
[Scratches: X-Ray Da Mindbenda]

[Verse 1: Megalon]
Hitlist, dirty n*ggas felony
Flow, eyes barely show, black Skelly low
Scuffed Nikes, some type of sweats on, dirty discus, Jersey
b*tches telling me, “Yo, he got home. Where do we go?”
We throw dirty dishes, black gloves on, this ain’t
Another rap love song, melody’s slow. Hand-
-cuffs on, ready to go. Whenever thug on, black
Shades with a black hood like back in the days
.38 triggers, ’91 Christmas [?]
Black spray people in the movie theater at 3 o’clock. With God
As my witness, kept blazed [?] slayed
Norman Bates as sick as three burgundy sixes
In your memory, I spit this wickedness. “Nothing
To Lose” tattooed around thirty-three stitches. Queens
Young-gun n*ggas, don’t forget this: you’s
A b*tch if [?], and I don’t give
A f*ck if you know who the snitch is. Body
In the trunk, kid. You know who this is. Tommy probably
Drunk and lit, ain’t seen Lawrence since he got sentenced
Find me on some dumb sh*t, in the [?] downstairs
By the jury on the benches [?]
Waiting for you to bring your b*tch to get extensions, take you
To the roof, trip you, whip you, put your dead body where the engine
Is, mismatch gloves on some bum sh*t
When you see me dressed like this, strictly menace, get
Your thug on, kid, switch gear in the bathroom, do
The dip to the hut where the tattoos is, tell
Black I need a cut, put the black in the laundromat
Cops from precinct. Two twenty-five-cent juices. Who this?
Black Geezus show-and-proving rap music, tat-
-tooed it on my back exclusive, clue Tommy Gunn
New sh*t [?]
[?] wipe every time the tattoo’s here. You know how I
Do this: my lieutenant ludicrous, pulls up in a
Rented blue whip, ten and deuce-deuce in it. He neuter di*ks
You’re due to hit on the roof. Bluish wigs move here
Yeah, all we got to do is lose the whip (*Phone Ring*)
Who this? Through p*ss, I got this new whip. Let’s do this
Meet on 1-2-5th where that dude lives, give me two
Minutes, cracked a brew, took two sips, passed it
Seen on some smooth sh*t

[Verse 2: Megalon]
Still black. Krill package black-sized
Black murder Timbs, black jeans, black ski mask
Black hood, black field jacket, real rap
sh*t. I feel practice makes perfect, so I still
Practice, flow off-beat but still ac-
-curate, peel your cabbage, ill black, b*tch
Make your body a meal for the maggots—I feel that sh*t
You get your grill back split. You want to do a real
Fast hit? I’m due to kill as S is
130 [?] faggot-ass kids
Fat-ass crib. Shed his glasses, his ass is
Blind, he can’t see city, home after six
He had the fast whip, grabbed the car keys to crash
The whip, he had the six, one blast from the
Fifth, took off after a swig, bloodstains still on the mat-
-tresses, [?] massive

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