Hitmen

Sporty Thievz

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Sporty Thievz

Sporty Thievz was a Yonkers, New York hip-hop group, originally a trio, composed of King Kirk (a.k.a. Thieven Stealburg), Big Dubez (a.k.a. Safecracker) and Marlon Bryant Brando (1979-2001) (a.k.a. Robin Hood). They are notable for their parody of TLC's hit "No Scrubs" entitled "No Pigeons", which attempted to tell things from the male perspective, and their song "Hit It Up" on the soundtrack to The Best Man. They are also known for satirically providing a male counterpoint to the female-oriented R&B music popularised in the late 1990s and early 2000s, something that was not done by any other group at the time. But despite the parody, the group have been acknowledged for their lyrical skill, also making other notable hits such as "Cheapskate", which also … more »


Year:
1998
4:36
148 
#2

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I want him dead. 
I don't care how you do it I don't care when you do it 
But I just want him dead. 
I don't care if you gotta bring him over here with his mother 
But I want him dead. 
I want his mother dead I want his father dead... 
I don't care I want his DOG dead... 

(Verse 1) 
Sonny pat me down sat me down said look at me now 
'Kirk no fucking around I want you to clap this clown 
If you f*ck up then you fucked, best not to f*ck 
F*ck you fucked then what? F*CK! You think you tough?' 
Chill! I need two's to bust, save the anger 
And all that hostility, stop grilling me, you killing me, feelin' me? 
Guess not...who you want dead? "Vinnie." How much bread? 
Shook his head fed and called his man Fred "Yo Fred!" 
Fred said, "F*CK you!" Oh f*ck me? Lucky 
As long as none of you touch me everything'll be lovely 
Trust me, where the money at? Sonny tapped Fred, "This is a funny cat 
You're black, you get the money when you come back!" 
What's that? Whatchu say? Nah you didn't say that 
Laid back snatched the gat under my grey hat and said "stay back" 
Clack, I don't play that! Shot Fred in his top lip [Ahh!!] 
That's for popping shit, and shot Sonny is his dick [Ahhhh!!] 
Blew they brains then skipped in a Towncar brown car 
Vinnie said, "What? No scars? How'd it go down, par'?" 
"Like quicksand." "Damn, here's your thirty-six grand. 
Lemme shake your hand, shit man, you're my favorite hit man!" 

(Chorus) 
Yo we hitmen, charge thirty G's ahead 
You might see the ex-poor theivz and want to fled 
Instead, blend in with the crowd while we cockin' this 
But sudden moves will just make yourself obvious 
Gimmie a price that I like, sound good then I might 
Take the life of whoever knowing never could do it better 
Remember no kids and double for females 
Pass the bills, pictures, and details and I'll do the kill 

(Verse 2) 
Peep the sag, I was fronted two G's by the mob 
Two Z's and the Saab for this hitman job 
Burnt my hand for initiation, cats told me the situation 
Them niggas transporter was lacing 
Coke was missing they was shortin' it up 
He was supposed to be importin' it up, but he was snortin' it up 
So they sent me to his house in a '98 Blazer 
Under my toungue, razor, gun pager with the lazer 
Jumped out with all black on feeling no love 
With the untouched slugs, black mask with the gloves 
Ran up in his crib-o with the click-o and seen dick-o 
Headed for the door with two tickets to 'Fransisco 
Him and his bitch, yo! She was looking type rio 
Flower shirt with the straw hat holding parico 
Yo chico! Where's the rest of the kilos, we know you got 'em 
Red light dot him, spot him on his head, shot him 
His girl behind him sobbing reaching for her stocking 
A holster strapped to her leg which she had the glock in 
She heard me cocking, and still tried to go for hers 
[gunshot] Kirk was like, "Damn why you open hers 
Before she showed you where the Coca was? F*ck man..." 

(Chorus) 

(Verse 3) 
Dog it ain't much time for explaining, and you a hitman in training 
What to and not to do when the bullets start raining 
Killing and maintaining be the key for this academy 
Number one: never ever ever point a gat at me 
F*CK if it's unloaded, threaten this man's health 
Bust me by mistake I'll kill you my DAMN self 
Now hold it to the side firm, squeeze 'till they squirm 
Use nines for long niggas tec-nines for strong niggas 
Never let a contract disrespect your flow 
'cause you might be next to get it when collecting your dough 
But yo, the best target is one that barely moves 
German 2's that'll be kept tucked under daily news 
Every shot counts with the nigga hired to hit on 
You don't want an empty clip with more niggas to shit on 
No vest and you get lit on, then you might wanna split man 
But shit, man, that's all part of being a hitman 

(Conversation with amateur hitman) 

(Chorus) 

There's three no's to a hitman: 
No kids 
No mistakes 
No witnesses 

Class dismissed

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Written by: DAVID ANTHONY WILLIS, KIRK HOWELL, MARLON BRYAN, SHAAROD A. FORD

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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