Freestyle II [Invasion II] lyrics

by

Ja Rule


[Intro]
These faggot ass n*ggas
Ayo, Buck, word to mother
Yo, they had young Malcolm silenced too long, baby
They can't f*cking hold me down, n*gga
What the f*ck these n*ggas thought
It's the I-N-C, n*gga
It's Murder
M-I-B n*gga
Murder Inc. Bosses, motherf*ckers
Ja Rule, haha
Ayo Buck
Turn this sh*t up in my motherf*cking headphones
Turn me up n*ggas
f*ck these faggots, haha
It's real n*gga, yeah
It's real n*gga (ayo, word to mother)
(f*ck you, Loose Change, you faggot)
Yeah, (Feminem, I'ma slap the sh*t out you, b*tch)
Murder Inc., n*ggas

[Verse 1]
How many n*ggas hold they heat like Rule
Sidearm, barrel in mouth to blow your head out to the south
And let little J get to airing you out
And if there's any change left
I toss you on down to the west
And let (westside) Tha Row ride down on ya
California Love is what you crave, so on you grave
It's gonna read: "Here lie 50, who snitched on many
That half a dollar, that nickel, them dimes, and died like penny"
And Murder Inc. will send they deepest condolences and sympathies
To Aftermath and Shady, Interscope and Jimmy Iovine
Ya know your team they really some peons
Gettin peed on and linked on
I'm talkin' about faggot ass gay Dre Young
And Suge told me all about how you used to take transvestites home
And occasionally wear thongs
No wonder Feminem be cross dressin' in pumps and tight little dresses
My pumps they leave big messes
And I know the Truth Hurts when I bust reckless
Battle of the sexes, is that a woman or a man?
I really don't care to stand, but 50 you gon' get shot again
By the M-U-R-E-D-R Inc
I'm the rapper that sings, totes guns and blings
And these Fed's can't discuss 'em
'Cause Lighty's violatin' us, usin' his powderpuff (f*ck you, Lighty)
Cryin' b*tch to Russell like
[Verse 2]
They shootin', ah Chris ya shook
And got Bus' rhymin' the same old hook
Like, they shootin', I ain't shoot up ya Land
I oughta put ya in the coroner van
Like my n*gga Jada-muah!
The dandruff Vanquish should be the get away car
When I clap at your broads
And Em, what's the durag for?
You never gon' have waves, you'll never know black pain
But you could become the first white rapper slain
Just get yo' money, man
The Inc. is runnin' thangs, hideout with Loose Change
And you n*gga, I'ma send you to mommy
With strict orders from Gotti to hide the body
And Dre, your day's comin' too, 'cause I got a team of misfits
That squat and handle they business
'Cause, I'm shootin', at all y'all n*ggas
And Lil' Mo, you just one of them b*tches
That ain't had a hot song in how long, never
Your better off with a di*k in your mouth, just shut up
Em, you claim your mother's a crackhead
And Kim is a known sl*t
So what's Hailie gon' be when she grows up?

[Outro]
Murder! Y'all know what it is
Murder! Y'all know what it be
Murder! Y'all know what it is
Murder! I-N-C
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