It’s Murda (Freestyle) lyrics

by

Jimi Hendrix


[Intro: Ja Rule]
It's Murda (Ha-ha-ha)
It's Murda
We back up in this motherf*cker! (Word to mother)
It's Murda
Y'all know who we be
(Ayo don't let me catch you runnin' up out the back of BET either, n*gga)
R.U.L.E. I.N.C
My n*gga Fatal on the mutherf*ckin' ones and twos
Holla back, you b*tch ass n*ggas

[Verse 1: Ja Rule]
Yo, c*ck sucka', I get squat and post and c*ck the Nina
In the five series beamer, dump and lean ya
I fell off on a misdemeanor, ride red over black madina's
Take crazy for genius, hated like Jesus Christ
My weakness always been bad b*tches
And new bills with creases, my thesis more than extraordinary
And that n*gga that got shot nine times could tell ya that I don't give a f*ck (b*tch ass n*gga)
I don't give a f*ck, God may I ask for your permission to take his life
This is grown man B.I., N.C. to R.U.L.E. is extraordinary
One for the ages we done sawed off the front of them gauges
To engage in combat (b*tch ass n*ggas)
To send you and Fem where your mom's at (You know)
Motherf*cker you hear that
And I ain't talkin' 'bout them heavenly skies
I'm talkin' about fire from nines
Or maybe the (Come on) fifty cal' cause you like five-oh
Or maybe somewhere in Cal where you like to lay low
Your b*tch made (I see y'all n*ggas) done heard about that b*tch
You been slayin', (Motherf*ckin' Murder Inc. [?] n*ggas) layin' up with, some where right off of Sunset
Y'all haven't heard yet that n*gga change is loose
And I got proof, get it? I got Proof (Yeah, ha ha ha),
Vest is no use when we c*ck and flame
It's Murda, (Yeah) Murder Incorporated (Haha)
[DMX & Jay-Z sample]
It's Murda (yeah, Hussein Fatal n*gga)
It's Murda

[Verse 2: Hussein Fatal]
Mothaf*ckas
Rule, these n*ggas crazy, reppin' him wit out me
A.I. a tha click, believe they won't win wit out me
Y'all small little homies, frail but bold
Went from base to some bullsh*t like "Jalen Rose"
Got my blind D.O.G's readin' brail in codes
Keep the heat in the winter I can't tell it's cold
Claim my set, pieced out flame the tech
Throw shots out n*ggas catch like "Wayne Cherbet"
Son of a gangsta, talk dirty son I'ma bang ya
I'm the truth with the ox, keep gum on the banger
Hussein, the only reason hoes chase tha thugs
n*gga blade part two I got tha taste for blood
Log Fatal.com, see fatal drop bombs
More militant minded then y'all Fatal and 'pop mines
Clutchin' tha stick beam, suckin' tha stick green
Out tha window or tha sunroof, buckin' tha sixteen
You ain't a gangsta Em, this is gangsta sh*t
And 50 you ain't nuttin' but a gangsta b*tch
Pac would have never did a song with no wanksta snitch
He confusin' y'all he ain't tha sh*t,,,,
We sex, money and murda you n*ggas
Ain't no playin' round with this rap sh*t
Banana clip, mack's spit bodies wrapped in plastic
Tha city where tha skinny n*ggas die (no)
You heard my dogs this is tha city where tha skinny n*ggas ride n*gga
Plaaattt
[Outro: Hussein Fatal]
Hussein tha don
Believe we got this sh*t poppin' in this muthaf*cka
Rule what's good...
We get to tha muthaf*ckin' club you punk n*ggas walkin' out
Brick city, Rule, Rap-alot-mafia!
Murda!
Yound D, Merc
Exsaless
These n*ggas ain't ready for this gansta sh*t right here
We been doin' this sh*t for a long time
Ya'll n*ggas got the streets confused n*gga
We been on this gansta thug sh*t
b*tch ass n*ggas you know what it is every time we touch tha muthaf*ckin' booth n*gga
It's gon' be fire, fire on you n*ggas asses
n*ggas better gracefully bow tha f*ck out n*gga
Hussein Fatal n*gga, Rap-alot-mafia, n*gga
M.I.B. n*gga, Murder Inc. bosses
Rule we here baby
Brick city Jers mob
Yeah
Shadow
Let's get it
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