Underground Hits (Remix) lyrics

[Chorus: Ruste Juxx]
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits

[Verse 1: Hopsin]
Yo, it's Rugged Man and Hop, we never get handed props
We keeping it dope and underground as the planet watch
If you on some bullsh*t when spitting lyrics, then damnit stop
Talking like you the hardest artist and you just can't get knocked
So keep thinking that, take this track and play it back
Just to remind you that everything you f*cking say is wack
But don't get mad and start cussing at us
'Cause we just finally fixed the sh*t 'cause you was f*cking it up
Yo, I'm sick of the game and everything it deals with
Yo, R.A. come over and bring the kill switch
Our brains are real sick, insane and filled with
A gang of ill sh*t, we can't be killed, b*tch
Who want it with us? We never coding it up
Don't try to step up 'cause I promise that you'll only get bucked
Emcees are scared running as we slowly erupt
We was born for this, ayo, it's time to bring the chorus in
[Chorus: Ruste Juxx]
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits

[Verse 2: R.A. the Rugged Man]
Yo, I'll put my di*k out and I'll pee on your property being a mockery
I'm abusive, cheating, never believe in monogamy, mediocrity
Pocket full of singles at the strip club, cash dropping, no class ass riding
I'm heinous, atrocious, repulsive, I'm past shocking
Rappers is speaking with no heart don't start
It don't matter, I can slay you to Bach, Beethoven or Amadeus Mozart
At the dinner table cursing wiping c*m on your curtain
I'm a poverty pirate, a poor penny pinching pitiful person
I'm from the '80s where we were skeezing and pleasing the skeezers
Thieving and popping and shooting and robbing and boosting and stealing your sneakers
Won't be in Forbes mag on no Forbes lists
But my life is parties and gambling, hookers, whore houses and porn b*tches
Hotel orgies with groupies, we rock stars, heart throbs
On the roof throwing cinder blocks on the hoods of cop cars
I'ma disrespect you, to pigs you was squealing too, they didn't protect you
Living and learning and losing, listening to the lecture, hitting it and giving it extras
Snatch your prom date, rip the c*nt hole, I'm the bully, get your lunch stole
House parties, stick my balls in the punchbowl, come on, sing it
[Chorus: Ruste Juxx]
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits

[Verse 3: Jarren Benton]
Yeah, the f*ckin' summer of Son of Sam, rappers getting body slammed
Do a drive-by on you n*ggas with Pac's hologram
Bada boom bada bing, pig feeding collard greens
And I don't like you n*ggers like Paula Deen, mister Benton
Whip a Lincoln Continental bumping It Was Written
n*ggas, b*tches, sh*tting kittens, doc, I need a new prescription
Yeah, this for my n*ggas that's going through hell
Lately I'm f*cking paranoid 'cause sh*t's going too well
Depression made me almost take my life away
f*cking loser, Mama should have stuck me in that microwave
Wrestle my left arm like, "Jarren put that knife away"
You lucky b*tch, I'm holding myself back, you could die today
This is hip-hop, f*ck off, get rocks
I murder rappers with Rugged Man, organs get zip-locked
Nerves of you f*cking j*rk offs, n*ggas 'bout to get murked off
f*cking rappers disgust me like Rick Ross with his shirt off!

[Chorus: Ruste Juxx]
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits
Hits, hits, hits, n*gga, hits, hits, hits