Testo Murdergram - Murder Inc.
Testo della canzone Murdergram (Murder Inc.), tratta dall'album Streets Is Watching
Niggas is dead, dead I tell you, can't be serious
What you think is gonna happen
With three of the illest niggas together
Street music and so fourth on one track, huh?
Can't be serious, it's Murder nigga, huh, it's Murda
Motherfuckers wanna kill me but don't got the heart
To look me in the eyes with the nine and spark
'Cause whether your for or against this
When I spit with murderous intentions
Everybody goes, everybody knows
The weapons I possess they not for show
And you put dresses on your weapons
When you walk out the door, see once I flash motherfuckers
Better do the one shot dash or be one shot ass
J to the AY to the drive by to your hood
Screaming bye-bye to you, why would you fuck with me?
Knowing I put you six feet deep and them niggas could die with cha
Cock the hot pistol and pop the hot Cristal
And promise you only one thing, to not miss you
Jahova, know the God that served you
'Cause dead or alive when I arrive it's Murder
Shit, I hope y'all niggas know to lay low now
'Cause thou shall perish if you don't bow down
'Cause I hit em on sight, its dark dim the lights
You shot twice god bless to this the night
That a lot of niggas fear the coming of their life
And you dead right be in hell looking for ice
Fucking with Ja you bitch niggas talking shit
All on my dick you broke niggas making me rich
You gonna blaze me 'cause you high ripped off the henna rock
Flow semi-hot handling me your not
Check my forte not even on a bad day you beat this
Rather beat your dick or your bitch
My flow be the sick shit, gravely ill
Niggas dying 'cause they know I spit like iron
Nothing but bark flying, flows and mics, hell and night
Go together like heaven and light
Niggas ain't seeing my plight, it's alright
I let the world know I shine like ice
I bet it all I can throw a hard four in the dice
'Cause I'm a gambling man, you should gamble
With a gat in your hand, spin in barrel and put it to your head
'Cause we don't dance no more all we do is cock and spit
Dedicated to giving you nothing but thug shit
Think we playing, you undoubtedly fall further
Fucking with INC is Murder
I'm a cruddy nigga, going raw-dogging, dirty bitches
And if I get burnt, I'm giving that shit to thirty bitches
You say you know a nigga like me, guess again Poppy
I might smile up in your face but I ain't your friend Poppy
Jump out the fifteen hundred like running
Niggas don't want it, get it, done it, when I'm blunted
However it went down, I made it happen, made it scraping
I made it fussing, busting, I made it capping
And letting off wasn't nothing new to a nigga
Something to do to a nigga, 'cause you is a fool nigga
I know your type, you hype, all up off that fake shit
You can't understand why a man would have to take shit
Or steal shit, but this is that real
Niggas kill shit, peel shit
I hit you in your head you won't feel shit
Uurr
Let the dogs lose on a niggas ass
Find out if the niggas faster then the trigger's blast
A fucking snake in the truest form knowing damn well
That what I do is wrong, plus what I do is strong
Niggas is making movies
So, I gots to stop production, you need a block to function
And maybe I'll stop destructing the blocks is not for fronting
So, let me get that shorty, 'cause you don't need that shorty
You don't know what to do with that shorty
You might as well hit this forty, before you hit the floor
Another twenty-four, what you want, money, more?
Them niggas did it raw, with no condom
You find them, saying sorry, he for what he said before I blind them?
Get the flame out the four fifth
And there ain't gonna be no more riff
Dog you want a floss tiff
But would of made it to the door if
Bullets traveled a lot slower, and you ran a lot faster
But they don't and you can't so don't think about after
'Cause tomorrow ain't coming, so stop running
'Cause you gonna die like a sucker
Murder, motherfucker
Uh, where my mother fucking dogs at, uh, uh
My nigga Jigga, my dog Ja, Irv Gotti, Rough Riders, Def Jam
Where my dogs at? Top fight, uh, where my dogs at?
Hold me down baby, hold me down baby, hold me down baby
Boomer, one love, nigga, urr, Murda, motherfucker
Credits
Writer(s): Earl Simmons, Jeffrey B. Atkins, Tyrone Fyffe, Shawn C. Carter
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Disclaimer:
i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare
direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia
un artista o
un publisher.