Front Page - Hittman

Frontpage Stardom, I’m the golden child

(That means we takin over this year)

Can’t fuck wit my bold crew

Frontpage Stardom, I’m the golden child

(That means we takin over this year)

Can’t fuck wit my bold crew

Frontpage Stardom, I’m the golden child

(That means we takin over this year)

Can’t fuck wit my bold crew

Frontpage Stardom, I’m the golden child

(Where the hell ya been homie?) Chillin`

(Do you think you`ll go platinum?) Man listen

(Everybody's talkin)

Some are dissin` so I keep all your ass at fire arm distance

(What are your goals?) 8 figures

(What is your role?) straight nigga

(What about your flow?)

Ha you wondering you gott to spend with me in the summer you’ll see

Extra Extra!

Read all about him!

Hitt signed to Aftermath

Now the B-Boys doubt him, females crowd him, decoys

Clone him, females want him, everybody on him, but he don’t

Care bout it man when he be zonin`, I remember when

The boy used to be a loner, waitin for the bus to come, posted

On the corner, of Crenshaw & Country Club he

Had no pub, now his car gitt`s valet parked, and he’s the talk of the club

Groupies in Gucci, Tuedays at Sky Sushi, high class mommas

At Las Palmas he gitt honored, came a long way from wearing Puma`s and Bombers

In line to see Krush Groove at the Baldwin Theater, now with

Rhymes he touch you, the small niggas hate him, ya'll couldent fade

Him with bleach on your clippers, now on the radio, he played

Bout as frequent Jigga, see the picture?

Allow me to introduce myself, I’m sick of fools

Speakin for me like I need help, you usually don’t

See me cuz I be stealth, and you should buy

My cd cuz I need wealth, you ever see me

Runnin its never for health, only for prez, the ones

That`s dead, mainly the one with the least hair on

His head, like white color crime, man i gotta stay

Fed, now if I couldn’t rhyme I`d probably be pre-med, spending

Most of my time tryna to stop A.I.D.S.

spread, but thats

Not my calling mines is ballin instead, slangin` rap like

Its crack to you damn baseheads, why do you think they

Call me Hitt?

Sign a contract then that`s what I supply you with

Whether combat a bomb track, or your chick, crime

Scene or magazine I’m all over it

I stay higher than racial tension, with a facial expression

Tensed up like I’m suffering from a case of nasal congestion

Eyes hazel, complexion beige, age still in question

Critics hate my tape kids can’t wait for the next one

As long as there’s rejects, my tape never e-jects the deck

That’s the level of re-spect each cd gets

While y’all are grasping at straws like me snortin' crushed aspirin

And gaspin' at air ‘n collapsin' in malls

I’m just a realistic impression of artistic expression

Who’s tape was in the deck when the kids shot up delicatessen

So when I — launch a verse full of contra-verse

That’ll haunt you worse than Ma$e before he joined the church

Ok kids I dismiss this class I’m going back in the broom closet to sniff this

gas

Umm, Mr. Mathers just missed the bathroom

Pissed his pants and the world still kissed his ass

This is my last album, this is my last Valium

Just pick my ass up when I pass out in the bathroom

If y’all don’t like this shit that you hearing then blow me ‘til your lipstick

is smearin'

And I can see my dick disappearin'