The Last Supper Lyrics – Hitta J3

Read the full The Last Supper lyrics by Hitta J3 along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Hitta J3’s music, you can also explore HEADSHOT, another song by Hitta J3.

Which was, um, what I do was I was on kendrick album
And they said that n!gga get down, get down
So, he just went on a whole
I saw that, right-
That’s that s*it?
You told your brother?
Nah, I ain’t told nobody!
He’s like, yo, if you don’t like me
If you don’t like what I said, do something about it
Westside ’till we die
Ayy, yeah
Tml, n!gga
Ayy, hittaman

They got me breathing with dragons
On the edge, no jacket
Mattress burgundy flagging and no father, I was a ba*tard
I’ll leave a rose in his casket, my trigger finger be snapping
Washington nationals back, die slow or kill ’em faster
A gangster less than a rapper, butterfly effect
My fire becoming rap and I like my gun with the tassels
It’s like animals when attacking
All that acting, b!tch the gig is up
Heist for the corner to pick him up
Everybody dead, not a name for me to mention once
Doa, yellow tape the scene, kendrick finish blood
Dropping straight b0mbs, been with top dawg
Schoolboy, rock to the ray vaughns
K’s’ll rip through teflons, if he wanna beef while everybody on the neck crying
Thinking you in good hands, go through vests and body guards, thinking you safe
Universe helping burn down hollywood
It’s the big pete, it’s not the big three
Too many trunks through whites and rappers’ mini-meets
Like bronny james was still trash when he in the league
White chalk ’em, get added to our dead enemies

Okay, got it, got it, got it

I was sayin, I wish kendrick didn’t put dude on his album
Oh, okay, oh, that’s it

Tryna be a badass, we giving little kids a whooping
Like gta, where your light quick to get tooken
They love gangsters, not a square sorta b!tch looking
Kitchen in flames, even retired chefs can’t quit cooking
Pull up and finish the job, I can’t send a shooter
Dirty money lucrative, show em how the whooping is
The ar got a cooling kit
They wonder where the goat, he somewhere baking it
Hitta-man can show ’em how to kill without an instrument
They feeling boat off that bag of white
Cherish life, ruthless like eric wright
I’m hungry and want every bite
It could be a purge, I’ll be there tonight
Blood on the pair of nikes
Stab ’em in the back and gonna share the knife
Bet ya life
Tell joe buddens what happen next after melting ice

I love the verse, he actually smoked it, he was on gnx
I know, give him his props
I- I gave the n!gga his props
Nah, do it again though
Heh, for safety- in front of the world
Verse was hard, son

The podcast was harmless, some real pee-wees
Tell the boy send some more kicks over to g-wee
Let the west in, buy from (??) birdman to check in
You ain’t a real blood, wearing blue rags young man
Fu*k ’em, run with us or run from us in silence
Lil wayne ain’t the only one who can spark a lighter, send a fire
Jim jones know about certified gangsters
Steal our style, n!ggas should thank us
We don’t want the credit, like dogg pound knocking over buildings
Nobody safe except the children
All the ho*s the boy claim he fu*ked, get that boy some penicillin
All y’all some drake babies, you’ll never be adonis
Killing s*it, it’s timeless, I’m being honest
Your parents wasn’t there for you, the west must be the father
This ain’t no fairytale, n!ggas can meet the monster
I’m from a place where all the killas die daily
Mothers see they kid in a body bag and case they bob baby
Put ’em in a blunt and take a puff
Fu*king with the west’ll leave a n!gga like a baby tuck

We don’t play games, this ain’t nintendo
In a coffin like a blanket, shine (??)
Bounce out on feet we ain’t shouting out no windows
Have ’em like reggie when its all about the benjamins
Thinking its a movie till we in it, man, think again
Joey’ll prolly sink or swim
I got killers in ny that’ll throw him off the bridge
(He dead)
N!ggas think he coming back from the dead and get unique
I’ll put this on repeat, black hoodie when I reap
All that talk may be cheap, put a boy to rest today from canada to jfk
For the boy, been in wars, only a check away
Catch ’em, we won’t hesitate
Devil waiting outside the heaven gates
Yfn lucci, I been tryna get reginae
Push buttons to elevate, more blood spilling to decorate
Another man dead, let’s pop choppers to celebrate
The gas, we accelerate
More reasons to dedicate, more people to instigate
Fu*k talking, we demonstrate
(Amen)