Текст песни The Murderers f Black Child, Ja Rule, Ta - Murderers, слова песни The Murderers f Black Child, Ja Rule, Ta - Murderers

The Murderers f Black Child, Ja Rule, Ta

Murderers

283	3 часа назад

Текст песни The Murderers f Black Child, Ja Rule, Ta - Murderers

The Murderers f Black Child, Ja Rule, Ta - Murderers слова песни

[Black Child]Uh huh, we did itMotherfuckerSomebody gotta do itIt gotta get done, why not get it done with the gun?Word to godYo yo yoChorus: Ja RuleMurder`a, inside must be hollowKill us today or you`ll have to kill us tomorrowMurder`a, inside must be shallowHow does it feel to take a life of anothaMurder`a, inside must be hollowKill us today or you`ll have to kill us tomorrowMurder`a, inside must be shallowHow does it feel to take a life...[Black Child]It`s murda and its not a gameY`all *Silence* gonna feel the flames and a lotta painLet me explain from day one its murda one with no gunTaking income, makin bitch niggas runThe nine-one-one roll up nigga whatWe got the four pund tucked, the Porsche look plushNiggas get fuckin clapped and killed for flossinThat probly why niggas get killed so oftenNothin to live for type a nigga I did a bid forSnitch bitch niggas that ain`t built for warIs it because we ain`t got no love for thugsAnd slugs for drugs, the worlds most murda`rousBlack Child, nigga you know how the fuck I doPut two in you, then puff a blunt at your funeralI might touch yo` click and fuck yo` bitchBut`choo never heard a nigga spit shit like thisChours[Tah Murdah]When I`m gunnin I`m coming on ??? shit rubber gripFour shit on the sawed off, blowin the doors off the Range Rov` shitFo` sho` this, is somethin` we die forAnd my murdera`s I lie and fry forMurda man, when the shit hit the fanThe plan formulate, for instance, fuck a percentage you need the all the cakePut the four to snakes make `em lay for rawFuck the game, `cuz nigga I don`t play no moreSize `em up, nevermind if you ridin toughCount `em out `til his eyes is puff, despising usI got hungry thugs that`ll tie you upAnd they ain`t got a problem with, snub nose revolver shitWe hard to hit, my mom`s a CripWe thristy niggas that`ll rob ya bitch for the love of the chipsSo when I`m soaking the whip, y`all niggas keep hatin`Gotta stash where the heats placed in, paper I keep chasinMotherfucker, uh uhChorus[Ja Rule]Yo, yo...Forever young this face kills so many all die, nigga must I?Confess my sins, to the souls of the unknown, why?Would you ever disrespect my niggasWe murderous engines that lead to lynchin`sIndex, itching, ready to run up and hit `emLet the teflon spin `em, they say "look how Ja did `em"I a murder`a , Inc`ed and blood you know you heard of usMurderers juts because we the shhhhhhhMake a nigga much harder to hit with the oxWe can take it back, give me five minutes in the boxOr trade hot rocks `til one of us dropsNothin but shells and you can hear the shot for blocksI`m giving `em hell, while niggas steady hollerin` "stop"I spit sixteens with aim and continue to popMotherfuckers, what`choo want with this shitThe murderous I-N-C, niggaChorusMURDER`A

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