Lyrics:
There are things I will do
For a hatchet job, too
Ante up, there's a new kid in town
It won't take long
For what's red hot and blonde
To be
what a snob
Don't let the hate take the focus away from working hard
My hits are coming in quick call that a hatchet job
All the way up
Yeah we going all
The hatchet job
Little red wagon fixed
Your fetid stink
Going apeshit
Your hessian sack
Little red wagon fixed
Watching you sink
Yeah this time you've been
Hey
This mind don't ever stop
No, it's never enough
I try to hop, bop and flop
But it never drops
These hatchet jobs
I turn away and it's here
I go
It was a hatchet job, I came in first and left last
Trying to be thorough
Overslept again and let the dishes all stack
Building your cathedral
to hear stop
Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn underneath the three clocks
Unsurprised when the choppers chop
I read the play, hatchet job, but you work with
a
Beatin' got a match, hey man, gotta match? - Tell yer ma, tell yer pa, our
Loves gonna grow, it's a govt. building and the hatchet job I know, every
Single
hatchet job
I locked my youth in a trunk inside a pick-up truck
Then dumped the whole thing over the same bridge the night you jumped
I think about that
Slim slim had to play it smart
I fucked around and took his job
Pull
My
Hatchet
Out
And
Beat
A
Face
In
there's like 52 thousand rungs
Man don't ever hesitate to get whatever it takes to get the motherfucking job done"
(Blaze)
There is one patch made
chasin' her no more like a carrot
Needa find someone else to dog like a terrier
She wanna bury the hatchet
Only if you goin' with it
I can't forgive it
with a knot in ya sock
Then you might be
Gang related! murder rap
Notches all in your belt
Robbery and sellin'
Trees the only jobs that you held
provider condom
If a di eagle, no match it
Head puncture, cyaa patch it
Di ratchet, me watch it
Mi done bury di hatchet
Black blunt, black rhino bruck bone
the only jobs that you held
Been to more damn funerals than the reverend himself
Then you might be..
Gang related! in and out tha penitentiary
With no
ribs, I'm famished, when I live
Lavish, I'll have full platters
On job like planners, don't
Rate it have to teach manners
Hatchet in the car boot
I wave
When they had an axe to grind
They could always grind their axe well
At the parties she designed
Now the hatchet grinders all prefer to call
the hatchet
Breaking my bond like some habits
Cup after cup I'm a addict
Balance my highs with some xanie
Gone off the drugs till I vanish
Know I got some
over it
It will be water under the bridge before I turn eighteen
I'll bury the hatchet with the awful memories of the past
And everything will be okay
Ridin up in M8s ridin up in traffic
We don't squash no beef, I'd never bury the hatchet
I feel like Houdini make you disappear like magic
They don't
Ridin' up in M8s ridin' up in traffic
We don't squash no beef, I'd never bury the hatchet
I feel like Houdini make you disappear like magic
They
but every line that's written
Spoken till my ribs broken, promise you that
The .40 poking through the curtains on the Maybach, bury the hatchet
Before
Satan's going to quit. And finally spit.
Acid Rap never quits.
Esham.
Pass me that. Hatchet. Not that axe.
I'm ready spit fire on this track.
Like Hatchet
When they had an axe to grind
They could always grind their axe well
At the parties she designed
Now the hatchet grinders all prefer to call
When they had an axe to grind
They could always grind their axe well
At the parties she designed
Now the hatchet grinders all prefer to call
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