Kill Em Hard
The Game Lyrics


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I got a black mac and a six pack
I don't work out, I don't chit chat
My bitch bad, I get racks
That Rolls Royce, come gift-wrapped
Them birds still come shrink-wrapped
I'm not strapped, don't think that
I'm low key with that click clack
That rat a tat tat tat tat
Throw the burner and I'm runnin' home
Niggas stop being loyal when the money gone
Still walk in this bitch, I'm a hundred strong
One chain on my neck, feel like I got a hundred on
Look at my flow on this bitch
Platinum and gold on my wrist
Money, the accountant be countin' it
That's why I'm throwin' this shit
I'm in BK with that SK
Same clothes since yesterday
With that Biggie Smalls on replay
And I ain't wearing no vest today
I do the Shmoney dance with this mac
You better do it too or get Shmurda'd
I be grilling that beef, I ain't talkin' no burgers
I finna be walkin' like I'm a New Yorker
I let off the K and then I hope in the Uber
It's never a question that I am the shooter
I empty the clip and lay you in a pool of
Blood, see how he got hit with the Ruger?
Blood, bandana that's how we be movin'
Blood, swooping from Compton to Brooklyn
And this ain't the Barclays but niggas be shootin'

Running niggas down back and forth
I'm like pass the torch
Blast it off
Niggas making bets so who gonna blast him off
First to score
We gon' hit 'em hard
We gon' hit 'em all
First to score
We gon' hit 'em all
We gon' hit 'em hard
Running niggas down back and forth
I'm like pass the torch
Blast it off
Niggas making bets so who gonna blast him off
First to score
We gon' hit 'em hard
We gon' hit 'em all
First to score
We gon' hit 'em all
We gon' hit 'em hard

Running cocaina back and forth
Copped the bag of salt
E S to the G N
I'm the boss dropped the package off
Coming for the murder, masks is off
Bitch you took a loss
Fuck the DEA we shook 'em off
Bitch we shook 'em off
Shook and twist the jars
And dope on my mommas stove top
By the time she came back from church boy
I bet you I had an O stocked
In the middle of the muhfuckin' day
no more yayo, boy I done sold out
Nigga pull up in a mothafuckin' foreign on
forgies that'll bring them hoes out
Like yeah nigga, niggas keep beggin'
I pull out a pump in this bitch like I'm blizzard
Yeah, empty your pockets, we robbin'
these bitches got all of us trippin'
Nigga, it's better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission
You catchin' the hollow, I'm catchin'you slippin'
I did it alone, only God as my witness
My nigga got off cause we tied up the witness
and made sure the nigga couldn't show up in court
You know the business, them niggas find out that you snitchin'
them niggas gon' be at your throat
Everyday Halloween niggas will go trick or treatin'
with two tweny-three at your door
Flippin' a check off this rappin'
go back to the trap and put that in the weed and the blow like

Running niggas down back and forth
I'm like pass the torch
Blast it off
Niggas making bets so who gonna blast him off
First to score
We gon' hit 'em hard
We gon' hit 'em all
First to score
We gon' hit 'em all
We gon' hit 'em hard
Running niggas down back and forth
I'm like pass the torch
Blast it off
Niggas making bets so who gonna blast him off
First to score
We gon' hit 'em hard
We gon' hit 'em all
First to score
We gon' hit 'em all
We gon' hit 'em hard

I just caught a body like a week ago
These hatin' niggas want attention, I don't see 'em though
You talk that gangsta shit, but I just can't believe it bro
We pull up with them shots, knockin' out that European [?]
S to the K to the E-M-E, callin' the EMT after I empted this clip
I sold my dope right on CMT, I'm at the ING, know I'm as weird as it gets
Chuck Taylor told me it's fuck haters, so I say fuck 'em and bury these niggas in pits
Rolley on wrist, no toc or no tic, your girl on my dick, man come get your bitch
Niggas think this a rap now, I might back down and come try your luck
Riders with me be wired up, they ridin' with me till the tyres bust
Haters talkin', but they better cool it, before that nigga Crooked get fired up
Lay you out like my Balmains, you gotta play 'em straight, he get ironed up
Drinkin' lean till I'm high enough, I don't give a fuck about [?] nigga
I ain't squashin' shit, I won't call it off, I just handle mine like a man nigga
I'm on frontline with these bands nigga
Need a chair, I can't stand niggas
We do walk-by's and hop outs
Got slidin' doors on that van nigga

Running niggas down back and forth
I'm like pass the torch
Blast it off
Niggas making bets so who gonna blast him off
First to score
We gon' hit 'em hard
We gon' hit 'em all
First to score
We gon' hit 'em all
We gon' hit 'em hard
Running niggas down back and forth
I'm like pass the torch
Blast it off
Niggas making bets so who gonna blast him off
First to score
We gon' hit 'em hard
We gon' hit 'em all
First to score




We gon' hit 'em all
We gon' hit 'em hard

Overall Meaning

The Game's song "Kill Em Hard" is a classic gangster rap track that features a heavy beat and hard-hitting lyrics. The song is about the artist's life as a gangster, discussing his gun collection, his drug dealing business, and his violent tendencies. In the first verse, The Game boasts about his black mac and six pack, describing his love for guns and his lack of interest in working out or "chit chat." He also claims to have a bad "bitch" who helps him earn money, and brags about his Rolls Royce, which he says comes "gift-wrapped." The Game talks about his drug dealing enterprise, describing the birds he sells as "shrink-wrapped," and warning listeners that he's always ready to shoot with his "click clack" gun. The chorus repeatedly emphasizes the idea that he and his gang will "hit 'em hard," always being the first to score and win the fight.


The second verse addresses The Game's history of violence, discussing his past murders and how he avoids getting caught by the police. He describes a recent killing, saying that he caught a body "like a week ago," and that he has no sympathy for his haters or those who talk about him behind his back. The Game describes himself as a "weird" and unpredictable guy, who is always drinking "lean" and smoking weed to get high. He talks about riding around with his crew, always prepared to "hit 'em hard" when the time comes.


Overall, the song is a classic gangster rap anthem that glorifies violence and criminal activity. The Game's lyrics are aggressive and unapologetic, reflecting the harsh realities of life on the streets.


Line by Line Meaning

I got a black mac and a six pack
I possess a black firearm and a six-pack of alcoholic beverages


I don't work out, I don't chit chat
I do not engage in physical exercise or engage in small talk


My bitch bad, I get racks
My partner is attractive, and I accumulate a substantial amount of money


That Rolls Royce, come gift-wrapped
I receive a luxurious Rolls Royce car as a present


Them birds still come shrink-wrapped
Illegal drugs are still packaged and sold in shrink-wrapped form


I'm not strapped, don't think that
I am not armed with a gun, do not assume otherwise


I'm low key with that click clack
I discreetly carry a firearm for potential use


That rat a tat tat tat tat
The sound of a rapid succession of gunshots


Throw the burner and I'm runnin' home
Dispose of the firearm and quickly retreat to safety


Niggas stop being loyal when the money gone
Individuals lose their loyalty when financial resources deplete


Still walk in this bitch, I'm a hundred strong
I confidently enter any situation with a large and formidable group


One chain on my neck, feel like I got a hundred on
Wearing a single chain around my neck gives a sense of abundance


Look at my flow on this bitch
Observe and appreciate my impressive style and skill in this situation


Platinum and gold on my wrist
I embellish my wrist with jewelry made of platinum and gold


Money, the accountant be countin' it
I possess a large sum of money, regularly accounted for by a financial professional


That's why I'm throwin' this shit
I proudly display and demonstrate my wealth and success


I'm in BK with that SK
I am in Brooklyn, armed with a semi-automatic firearm


Same clothes since yesterday
I have worn the same garments from the previous day


With that Biggie Smalls on replay
I continuously listen to the music of the late rapper Biggie Smalls


And I ain't wearing no vest today
I have chosen not to wear a bulletproof vest for protection


I do the Shmoney dance with this mac
I perform a celebratory dance while holding a firearm


You better do it too or get Shmurda'd
You should also participate in the dance or face consequences


I be grilling that beef, I ain't talkin' no burgers
I am aggressively confronting and provoking individuals, not referring to literal burgers


I finna be walkin' like I'm a New Yorker
I confidently stroll as if I belong in New York City


I let off the K and then I hope in the Uber
I discharge bullets from an AK-47 and swiftly escape in an Uber ride


It's never a question that I am the shooter
There is no doubt that I am the individual carrying out acts of violence


I empty the clip and lay you in a pool of
I empty the ammunition magazine and leave you lying in a pool of blood


Blood, see how he got hit with the Ruger?
Witness the result of his injuries caused by being shot with a Ruger firearm


Blood, bandana that's how we be movin'
Blood-stained bandanas indicate our gang affiliation and movement


Blood, swooping from Compton to Brooklyn
We transition and extend our influence and activity from Compton to Brooklyn


And this ain't the Barclays but niggas be shootin'
Despite not being at the Barclays Center, individuals still engage in shootings


Running niggas down back and forth
Relentlessly pursuing and chasing individuals in a back-and-forth manner


I'm like pass the torch
I assume control and leadership, passing on the responsibility to others


Blast it off
Initiate an explosive and powerful action


Niggas making bets so who gonna blast him off
Individuals are placing wagers on who will eliminate or defeat their target


First to score
The person who accomplishes the first successful act


We gon' hit 'em hard
We are going to relentlessly attack and harm our enemies


We gon' hit 'em all
We will target and attack every single one of them


I just caught a body like a week ago
I recently committed a murder


These hatin' niggas want attention, I don't see 'em though
Individuals who express animosity seek acknowledgment, but I ignore their presence


You talk that gangsta shit, but I just can't believe it bro
You speak confidently about being a gangster, but I doubt its authenticity


We pull up with them shots, knockin' out that European
We arrive with firearms, effectively defeating and eliminating opponents from Europe


S to the K to the E-M-E, callin' the EMT after I empted this clip
Referring to myself as SKEME, I am calling emergency medical services after using up all the ammunition in my firearm


I sold my dope right on CMT, I'm at the ING, know I'm as weird as it gets
I openly sold drugs on Country Music Television, and now I am at the ING (unknown reference) demonstrating my unconventional behavior


Chuck Taylor told me it's fuck haters, so I say fuck 'em and bury these niggas in pits
Chuck Taylor, likely a friend or acquaintance, advised me to disregard haters, so I proudly ignore them and metaphorically defeat and silence them


Rolley on wrist, no toc or no tic, your girl on my dick, man come get your bitch
I wear an expensive Rolex watch without any noticeable ticking, and your girlfriend is showing interest in me, so you should intervene


Niggas think this a rap now, I might back down and come try your luck
Individuals mistakenly believe this situation is merely a rap performance, but I am willing to confront and challenge them


Riders with me be wired up, they ridin' with me till the tyres bust
My loyal associates are fully prepared and ready for action, staying by my side until the point of exhaustion


Haters talkin', but they better cool it, before that nigga Crooked get fired up
Detractors continue to speak negatively, but they should cease their behavior before I, Crooked, become angry and retaliate


Lay you out like my Balmains, you gotta play 'em straight, he get ironed up
I will subdue and render you powerless similar to the way I lay out my designer Balmains, so you better behave or face consequences


Drinkin' lean till I'm high enough, I don't give a fuck about [?] nigga
Consuming lean, a mixture of codeine and soda, until reaching a desired level of intoxication, while disregarding and not caring about certain individuals


I ain't squashin' shit, I won't call it off, I just handle mine like a man nigga
I refuse to resolve any conflicts, choosing to handle them assertively and directly like a mature individual


I'm on frontline with these bands nigga
I actively engage in confrontations and conflicts with large sums of money at stake


Need a chair, I can't stand niggas
To cope with individuals I dislike, I require a chair as I find it difficult to tolerate their presence


We do walk-by's and hop outs
We perform drive-by shootings and sudden ambushes


Got slidin' doors on that van nigga
The van we utilize for criminal activities has sliding doors for quick and easy entry and exit




Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: Bobby Shmurda, Fredrick Tipton, Jayceon Taylor, Lonnie Kimble

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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