Gun Talk(Album Version (Explicit)) feat. Black Child

歌詞

[Chorus] Well bitch niggaz get you of the grind, nigga grab the nine and Well fake niggaz try to cop the style, cop the 40 cal then Well if you don't like the way its going down, nigga grip the pounding And if there's more than one that got the gold, grab the cal keep going [Verse 1 - Ja Rule] Real talk, the inc about to run New York Cause there's no real niggaz left to hold the torch Who gon' hold us of, cause you don't read newspaper's nigga Lt Ja tell it, that's murder inc boy's, that's real killers Money laundering, tax avaid and drug dealers Backed by chemical grit, you can't be serious We just niggaz getting money, f**king all the bitches And life and death between a matter of inches You know That fo' four that handle his buisness Like capital game, reload and hit them with intrest Damn What so gangsta about these niggaz Now I got the full speed niggaz, led Leave them dead over prayers, or head Cause we done f**king these same bitches And you know they talk, and the pillows be my witness My forgiveness Niggaz can't be this stupid It's gun talk, niggaz better get used to it [Chorus] [Verse 2 - Blackchild] I dont' care if you're a criminal or a cop, shoot or get shot I'm raised by the plot, product of the hater The gauge and the glock, and I keep a blade I ain't afraid if it pop, the gauge still a gun Married muder one, sleep with the fishes Tasting red rum, young and corrupted Nothing to f**k with, straight out of the gutter With no introduction Our role models is forced with the hollows F**k slothes the swallow the fifth a holla The whitness and the polla Weed twisting ganja Load up the clip's and flip the corner They Morner, be morners stay gunner We gangster, gangster point and blank ya' Thank ya' Niggaz keep me in the mood To eat a nigga food I murder with real bombs [Chorus] [Verse 3 - Ja Rule] The nine the cal the pound of coke, niggaz The weed the dope the E' the coke, niggaz The gauge is mine, that's all I know I've been doing this since 9 6, the oldies know This tough load, the 3 8 o's, I let my hoe's hold Keep it in them working, In case I'm legal searching They got worship god, and trust the gun Ask for your forgiveness, and send niggaz up F**king stick niggaz up, these bitch niggaz touch It's all about violence, real niggaz is silenced And know these niggaz whoes guns got low mileage Got ducked taped, all tied up in their houses I'll make you watch while I f**k the spouse This, ain't buisness, it's personal, gun talk when I holla your the first to know How many hoes, and how much blood has been lost of [Chorus] Yeah Murder INC We riding here motherf**kers