sh*t Gets Ugly lyrics

by

Busta Rhymes


[Tah Murdah]
Permanently dedicated to the street sh*t
Creep the gat that spit quick and f*ck with
Killers who keep clips to heat sh*t
When there's murder involved
There's a lot of n*ggas bluffin'
Holdin' an arsenal of guns and never bustin'
Screamin' at the top of they lungs but sayin' nuthin'
But I styrofoam lies with quiet and blaze nuthin'
What the f*ck y'all want
Cowards we ain't cut from the same cloth
You a 5M6 n*gga, I ride your b*tch n*gga
You f*ck with the wrong one this time
And I promise you
You be the next n*gga they pay homage to
And they gonna find you somewhere in a vacant lot
With the garbage, I'm a murderer so I'm heartless
I drop the top on the CL420 as I
Swallow Henny, gettin' head from your hunnie
And before I let you hit me, I hit you
And split you, leavin' you for the paramedics to get you

[Chorus: Tah Murdah & Black Child]
When sh*t gets ugly
It's back to the block f*ckin with them custies
We gonna lock sh*t down
I'm a n*gga so you know you can't trust me
When sh*t gets ugly
We got b*tches that transport pounds
We gonna lock sh*t down
Murder them n*ggas, murder them now
[Black Child]
I spit venomous murderous sh*t with the innocence
Of a child, in the penal, foul, and official
Futuristic, chick sh*t, black big di*k
From mistresses, we roll triple sixes
Thats back-to-back Benzes, my friends is my enemies
They feel the energy like it's tenely
Murder's the remedy when the henny's in me
I'm unfriendly in the club where the women be
Sippin Italy, feelin' me, killin' me, for the Benji's
Not the broads in my bed
I can't front, I love them whores that give me head
I like my presidents dead, and I can't stand the feds
I got mansions with saunas, while n*ggas on the corner
And laughin' at the police when they can't find my burner
I like cars with a stash box, cash, and drop-top
I smash the block, n*gga blast the cops

[Chorus: Tah Murdah & Black Child]
When sh*t gets ugly
It's back to the block f*ckin with them custies
We gonna lock sh*t down
I'm a n*gga so you know you can't trust me
When sh*t gets ugly
We got b*tches that transport pounds
We gonna lock sh*t down
Murder them n*ggas, murder them now
[Vita]
When sh*t gets ugly, in the purse where the snub be
Murderous b*tch, give a f*ck if you hate or love me
Feel you above me, b*tch but down inside
What chick you know hit strips and broke down fives
Cut family ties, so deep into my slug's eyes
Analyze my crimes as I rise, and I
Solemn ly swear never to turn state
You right b*tch
I'm a murder mommy for life

[Ja Rule]
Yeah, Yeah
May the lord be with n*ggas who shout my name in vain
I'm a Murderer motherf*cker, you n*gga loose change
I get head in the whip, probably from your b*tch
Cause she's a ho like yourself, and it's makin' me sick
From the pimps that cue the pulpit like Don Bishop
I pimp on hoes religiously, shorty are you hearin' me
Good sense to keep a n*gga in dark tints
But it won't stop the hollows comin' through the fence
Forget about it, gangsta sh*t get intense
And you soundin' like a homo n*gga who ride di*ks
Every joint you make got a name in your mouth
What you gobblin' nuts n*gga, with my posters out
n*gga read about it
The Murderous I.N.C., courtesy of the n*gga I. Gotti
n*gga hear about it
From your hood to my hood, from my block to your block
f*ck around and get shot n*gga
[Chorus Tah Murdah & Black Child]
When sh*t gets ugly
It's back to the block f*ckin with them custies
We gonna lock sh*t down
I'm a n*gga so you know you can't trust me
When sh*t gets ugly
We got b*tches that transport pounds
We gonna lock sh*t down
Murder them n*ggas, murder them now
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net