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Artist: Mobb Deep f/ The Alchemist
Album:  The Infamous Archives
Song:   Make the Hits
Typed by: DaSun_Akbar@HotMail.Com

[Intro: (Havoc) & The Alchemist]
(Uh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, fo' real)
You are now tuned into the sounds
Handcrafted & designed, by the H A V O C
Havoc beats, (fo' real) A-L-C talkin'

[Verse One: Havoc]
You know my name, you know my pedigree
It ain't a game, who could do this better then me?
As far as I'm concerned, niggaz better play that position
Their slugs will be hittin' that target, neva missin'
And - how many times, do I gotta go through that beef
Protectin' my shines, wit nothin' but that big heat
I'm down to Earth, but niggaz wanna to bring it
Up to that next level, swing, don't sing it
But I warn y'all, tear y'all niggaz in new ass off
Compared to Hav', nigga I'm dope, you lactose
Pass the roach; you laughin' I'ma get that last tot
Gangstas to fly bitches, I rap for those
And - layin' it down, just like it's suppose to be layed
Check mate on a nigga when my moves is made
Don't believe? The proof is in the pudding, my nigga
Straight face when I'm pullin' the trigger, you didn't know?

[Chorus: Prodigy]
Yo it's the word, you hate P?
You hatin' on Hav?, the A-L-C?
We gettin' doe, we got the V's
That make your hoe come up out them panties
And - we do it big, we +Make The Hits+
Y'all make the check, like it's come up off the checks
You gettin' broke, we gettin' rich
We got the guns that make a mess, uggghh!

[Verse Two: The Alchemist]
Aiyo it's time, time for me to shock and amaze
The best out, chest out when I'm rockin' the stage
I'm certified, A-L-C claimin' his clout
And I'ma show you what that name's about
And - the +Quiet Storm+ (ssshhh!) blew out the fuckin' lights
Flood the block and overflow personal
Trained pipes, me and H, yea we the same type
Get the checks in the daytime and bang out in the late nights
Plus, I'm on the grind, snatch a quarter 'mil from KOCH
'Cause I shook the spot, it went from the bottom to the top
(Get that) I fake then I'm swingin' the rock
Anyway you cut the cake I get my CREAM off the top
CREAM of the crop, on sideways, leanin' and drop
Top speed 'til the cops give me a reason to stop
Even in the winter season I'm hot
Like Ripley's if you a thug, I don't know if I Believe It Or Not!

[Chorus: Prodigy]