Lyrics: Sam Seguin/Lance Sampson
Music: Sam Seguin
She got the suwoo on her bag
Natural born killer
Not your average type uh rag to riches
Now Come on, she a bone chiller
She knows, how to rope em in
Got me baggen and a pleading just to get her on the team
Cuz I, got jobs, and got plenty
Just let me know whatever you need, and umma bring it to ya
Good lord
HITWOMAN
With plans to get rich
Got yourself in a tight sitch
Come on, get you a HIT WOMAN
You won't need another
HITWOMAN
With plans to get rich
Got yourself in a tight sitch
Come on, get you a HIT WOMAN
She the realest that it gets
I like a woman with a backbone, OUUU she got body
Fee fi fo fum, the earf quake
Dat ass'll leaving em shook like a giant
And She like to get in between the sheets, but don't call her out her name, NAH
The last brother, found out, the hard way, they never asked of em
cuz they know that my sugah babies a
HITWOMAN
With plans to get rich
Got yourself in a tight sitch, for sho get you
A hit woman
You don't need another
HITWOMAN
With plans to get rich
Got yourself in a tight sitch
Come on, get you a HITWOMAN
She the realest that it gets