Murder

歌詞

I'm still Pimp C, bitch—so what the fuck is up? Puttin' powder on the streets cuz I got big fuckin' nuts Comin' back from Louisiana in a Fleetwood Lac I just served them niggas some shit to put they fiends on they back Got the pounds going for 4 cause you know I just pay 2 Nigga bought thirty from me So I front him 42 He gon' pop for 700 times 62 24/8 is what I do so nigga fuck what 'cha do If I told ya cocaine numbers, you would think I was lyin' Young niggas 22 is talkin' bout they retirin' In the game ain't a thang comin' foreign with Benz Brick home and two apartments where I entertain friends Mo bounce to the ounce cuz the Brougham the shit I done got me 50 ounces out of birds in this bitch Tightin' up, no slack, bitches checkin' my stock Got some birds I sell to niggas, some I go rock for rock Just got back from California kicked it with B-Legit Put me down with purple chronic and that hurricane shit At the studio with Tone, I wish I could stay I got to holla at Master P, cuz we got money to make And when playaz from the South stack G'z man Like Ball I got to stack big cheeze, man Bitch say he wanna show you got nine grand? I ain't rappin' shit until my money in my hand South Texas mutherfucka that's where I stay Gettin' money from yo bitches every goddamn day Big paper I'm foldin' Hoes is on my mutherfuckin' jock for all this dick that I be holdin' I hate clone men show it Especially them fools that take our style and act like my niggas don't know it Kick it with the trill niggas so you best not trip If ya keep on talkin' shit , my nigga, empty the clip Ho ass nigga Murder, Mur, Murder, Mur Murder, Mur, Mur, Murder Murder, Mur, Murder, Mur Murder, Mur, Mur, Murder Well it's Bun-B, bitch, and I'm the king of movin' chickens' Not them finger lickins, stickin' niggas that be trickin' You need a swift kick in', yo ass is ripe for the pickin' Now as my pockets thicken I be kickin' nickel slickin' you sick when I be clickin' Now take a look at the bigger nigga, Malt liquor swigger Playa hata ditch digger Figure my hair trigger give a hot one in yo liver You shiver, shake, and quiver I'm frivolous if a nigga get wetter than a river For what it's worth it's the birth of some niggas doin' dirt Fuck her first night, take off the skirt, make her pussy hurt It's the Master Hit the Swisha faster then you fever blister bastard Fuck yo sister passed her, fifty elbows for sale yo Brother better have my mail, ho Fore I catch a murder case and go to jail Oh, hell no! Time to bail hit the trail so We can sell mo fuckin' yayo get the scale No other bullet duckers can shove us out of this game So they better buck us, 'cause the cluckers they love us Make them glass dick suckers shake their jelly like Smucker's I hit like nun-chuckers, cause Short Texas bring the ruckus This for my muhfuckers, cookin' cheese to crooked G'z Rockin' up quarter keys just to get the hook with ease Wannabes get on yo knees Feel the squeeze from them HK 1-3s From here to overseas, we do what we please Don't trip 'cause we flip, light up a dip I'm breakin' 'em off from they hip to yo lip Go ask that boy Skip, that nigga Bun rip With one clip, soon as the gun slip Now I done whipped out my Barrelli Flyin' through yo Pelle Pelle and Some smelly red jelly is drippin' out of ya belly Served 'em like a Deli jumped on my cellular telli Ho sell it like it's goin' out of style You can't see me, Marcus, so have a Motherfuckin' Sweet and a smile Murder, Mur, Murder, Mur Murder, Mur, Mur, Murder