[Intro Ja rule] It's Murda... (ha ha ha) It's Murda... we back up in this muthafucka! It's Murda... y'all know who we be Yeah, aiyyo don't let me catch ya runnin from the back of BET either nigga (my nigga Fatal on tha muthafuckin ones and twos) Holla back you bitch ass niggaz
[Verse 1 Ja Rule] Yo, cock sucka', I get squat and post and cocked tha nina' In tha five series beamer, dump and lean ya I fell off on a misdemeanor, ride red over black madina's Take crazy for genuis, hated like Jesus Christ My weakness have always been bad bitches and new bills with krisis', my thesis more than extrordinary And that nigga that got shot nine times can tell ya that I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck, god may I ask yo' permission to take his life This is a man be "I" N-C to R-U-L-E extrordinary, one for tha ages when then sawed off with tha front of them gauges To engage in combat To send you and 'fem' where yo moms at Motherfucka you hear that And I ain't talkin about them heaven from skies I'm talkin' about them fire from nines Or maybe the fifty cal. cause you like five-oh Or maybe somewhere in Cal where you like to lay low You bitch made, and I heard about that bitch you be slayin layin up with, some where off of Sunset Y'all haven't heard yet that nigga change is "Loose" And I got "Proof" get it, I got "Proof" Yo vest is no use when we cock and flame It's Murda, (yeah) murda incorporated (ha ha)
[Verse 2 Hussein Fatal] It's Murda (yeah) Hussein Fatal nigga (It's Murda) Muthafuckas... Rule' these niggas crazy, reppin' him without me "A.I" ain't in tha click, believe they won't win without me Yo, I'm small lil' homies, frail but bold went from base to some bullshit like "Jalen Rose" Got my blind D-O-G's readin' brail and coats keep tha heat in tha winter I can't tell it's cold Clean my set, pieced out flame tha tec Throw shots out niggas catch like "Wayne Cherbet" Son of a gangsta, Talk dirty son I'm a bang ya I'm tha truth with tha ox, keep gum on tha banger Hussein, the only reason hoes chase tha thugs Nigga blade part two I got tha taste for blood Log on Fatal.com, see fatal drop bombs more militant minded then y'all faded with 'Pac rhymes Clucthing 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 shit And "50" you ain't nuthin' but a gangsta bitch "Pac'" would have never did no song with no wanksta snicth He confusin' ya'll he ain't tha shit We sex, money and murda you niggas Ain't no playin' around with this rap shit banana clip, mack's spit bodies rap up in plastic This tha city where tha skinny niggas die (no) You heard my dogs this is tha city where tha skinny niggas ride nigga...
Plaaattt... Hussein tha don Believe we got this shit poppin' in this muthafucka Rule' it's good... And we into tha muthafuckin' club you punk niggas walkin out Brick city, Rule, Rap- alot- mafia! Murda! Yound D', Merc, Exsaless, These niggas ain't ready for this gansta shit right here We been doing this shit for a long time Ya'll niggas got the streets confused nigga we been on this gansta thug shit Bitch ass niggas you know what it is every time we touch tha muthafuckin booth nigga It's gonna be fire, fire on you niggas asses Niggas better gracefully bow tha fuck out nigga Hussein Fatal' nigga, Rap-alot-mafia, nigga M.I.B nigga, murder inc bosses, Rule' we here baby, brick city jerses mafia Yeah...Shadow...let's get it...
Lyrics contained within GoldLyrics.com subject to US Copyright Laws and are the property of their respective authors, artists and labels. If you like the lyrics, GoldLyrics.com encourages you to buy the CDs of the albums and whenever possible, GoldLyrics.com gives a link, where you can buy the album.
