[Intro: Black Child]
Word to God
Y'all know who the fuck this is
You know we would kidnap your kids
You know what the fuck we do
Murder bitch niggas like you
For real, all the time, any place, anywhere
Y'all niggas could get it
Act like y'all don't know
[Verse 1: Black Child]
In a world that's ice cold, Blacks die slowly
Cats snatch rollies, gats and leave you holely
My momma always told me: the streets will slow me down
Daddy never showed me how heat will hold me down
So now I rob and steal, spit shit you feel
With a clique that kills, yeah my shit's that real
I hustle hard all my life, ran the streets all night
My wife always said everything was gon' be alright
And she was right, and that's one reason why I love her
But everythin' she said went in one ear and out the other
Word to mother, look at it from a thug point of view
When the kids need clothes, what a thug gon' do?
Hit the streets and hustle or pick up the heat and bust you
I'm tryin' to eat like Russell, murder is my hustle
You keep chasin' yesterday, you gon' miss tomorrow
It's murder motherfucker we don't beg or borrow
We take shit, fuck you and your fake bitch, when the 8 spit
You could feel the hatred, taste it
You high right now, you ain't ready to die right now
The 45'll calm you down, you under trauma now
It's drama how a child will shut shit down
Killin' niggas for the fuck of it, I'll get you touched for chips
Fuck that shit, and fuck your whips, fuck you bitch
You can just suck my dick
[Chorus: Black Child]
If you chasin' yesterday, you gon' miss tomorrow
It's murder motherfucker, we don't beg or borrow
We take shit, fuck you and your fake bitch
When the 8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it
It's your blood, when we show love, we murderers (murderers)
We throw slugs, we hustlers (hustlers) we sell drugs
And tell thugs live it up till yo time's up
[Verse 2: Tah Murda]
Yo yo, don't give a fuck if y'all niggas hate me
Drop bodies off where the lakes be
But lately, I've been hittin' cribs
And safes where the cake be
I take three to the vest for the love of the dollar
And put that hot shit thru you and watch you Holla Holla
The same niggas that I ball wit I'ma brawl wit
Armored tanks run in the bank and take all of it
Player we're flawless, wit' nothin' to losin'
Gun buttin' and bruisin' niggas, y'all can't live
Funny shit about it, niggas wan' hit me, forget about it
Thug shit I'm still livin' y'all niggas just spit about it
I robbed and extort niggas two 3rd's of my life
The other 3rd's spent slingin' on curbs, chasin' them birds
If you ever get the urge to come try for test
Then all in one day you get numb and lied to rest
It's murda the only code to the ghetto
It's murda, nigga hand me the bezel
Or dance with the devil, guns rapidly spit
Gangsta shit, attractin' yo bitch, gettin' head and lean back in the 6
I'm after the chips, nigga I'm tryna tell you
You holdin' hammers and nail you
Have you where the dogs couldn't smell you
[Chorus: Black Child]
If you chasin' yesterday, you gonna miss tomorrow
It's murder motherfucker, we don't beg or borrow
We take shit, fuck you and yo fake bitch
When the 8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it
It's your blood, when we show love, we murderers (murderers)
We throw slugs, we hustlers (hustlers) we sell drugs
And tell thugs live it up till yo time's up
[Verse 3: Ja Rule]
Ja's a muthafuckin' problem
Any nigga think not, I'ma pop him
Put the lean on niggas the minute I spot 'em
Who gettin' it, I got 'em nigga and gon' dot 'em
To the cross in the road show 'em how them guns blow
I'ma degenerate nigga addicted to hydro
Switchin' four lanes, top down with my eyes closed, got a death wish
Money, drugs, and murderer shit
What you want with this? We'll kidnap your kids
Clap up your cribs, it's the murderers
Who you know wit guns that kill shit just because?
We them hot niggas
Sell more records than Rock niggas
I'ma lock it down for 6 months and shock niggas
What's my name?
J to A to R-U-L-E, with them hoes get between more sheets than Isley
You can't deny me, I'm the muthafuckin' one
Druggin', bitches, like heron
The don be the Rule, if you're hot keep ice on your jewels
Cop a Benz and 20-inch chromin' shoes
I got nuttin' to lose but everythang to live for
Thoroughbred demand and supply the raw
I put my smack down from N.Y. to Chi-Town
Incorporated murda spittin' 'em rounds
You don't wanna hear how it sounds
When we cock and flame
It's murder and ain't shit gon' change, niggassssssss
[Outro: Ja Rule]
Uh, uh
Motherfuckers
Understand that
Uh, uh
Live and die for this, here, nigga
It's murdaaaaaaaa
Motherfucker
Give it to 'em
Raw like that
Uh uh
ALL MY MURDERERS
????
Ride out niggas
Fuck the world
You heard
Murder Inc. niggas