Lyrics
Word to God
Y’all know who the fuck this is You know we would kidnap yo kidz
You know what the fuck we do Murder bitch niggas like you
For real, all the time, any place, anywhere
Y’all niggas could get it Act like y’all don’t know
In a world that’s ice cold, blacks die slowly
Cats snatch rollies, gats’ll leave you holy
My momma always told me the streetz will slow me down
Daddy never showed me how the heat will hold me down
So now I rob and steal, spit shit you feal, wit a clique that kills
Yea my shit’s that real, I hustle hard all my life
Ran the streetz all night
My wife alwayz said everything was gonna be ait
And she was right and that’s one reason why I love her
But everything she said went in one ear and out the other
Word to mother, look at it from a thug point of view
When the kids need clothes, what a thug gon do?
Hit the streetz and hustle, pick up the heat and bust you
I’m tryin' to eat like Russel
Murda is my hustle But you keep chasin yesterday, you gon miss tomorrow
It’s murda motherfucker we don’t beg or borrow
We take shit, fuck you and yo fake bitch, when the eight (.8mm) spit
You could feel the hatred, taste it You high right now, you ain’t ready to die right now
The .45 will calm you down, you under trauma now
It’s drama how a child will shut shit down
Kill a nigga for the fuck of it I get you touched for chips
Fuck that shit, fuck the whip, and fuck you bitch
You can just suck my dick
If you chasin' yesterday, you gon miss tomorrow
It’s murda motherfucker, we don’t beg or borrow
We take shit, fuck you and yo fake bitch
When the .8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it It’s your blood, when we show blood, we murderers (murdaraz)
We throw slugz, we huselazz (huselazz) we sell drugz
And tell thugz live it up till yo time stopz
Yo I give a fuck if y’all niggas hate me I drop bodies off where the lakes be But lately, I’ve been hittin' cribz
And safes where the cake be I take three to the vest for the love of the dolla
I put that hot shit thru you and watch you Holla Holla
The same niggas that I ball wit I’mma brawl wit
I’m a tank running in banks and takin' all of it Player we’re flawless, wit nutten to lose gunz bustin
And brossen niggerz y’all can’t live
Funny shit about it, niggers wanna hit me, forget about it Thug shit I’m still livin' y’all niggas just spit about it I rob and stomp niggas 2/3rd of my life
The other 1/3 spent sittin' on curbz chasin' those birdz
If you ever get the urge to come by and try to test
There’s only one and then you get numb and lied to rest
It’s murda the only code to the ghetto
It’s murda, nigga hand me the bezzle
And dance with the devil, gunz rapidly spit
Gangsta shit, attractin' yo bitch, gettin' head and lean back in the whip
I mastered the chipz, Nigga I’m tryin to tell you
You’re holdin' hammers and nails and
We have you where the dogz couldn’t smell you
If you chasin' yesterday, you gon miss tomorrow
It’s murda motherfucker, we don’t beg or borrow
We take shit, fuck you and yo fake bitch
When the .8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it It’s your blood, when we show blood, we murderers (murdaraz)
We throw slugz, we huselazz (huselazz) we sell drugz
And tell thugz live it up till yo time stopz
Ja’s a muthafuckin' problem
Any nigga think not, I’ma pop him
Put the lean on niggas the minute I spot em Who’s gettin' it, I got him, nigga dead and gone
Gonna guide 'em to the crossroads show em how those gunz blow
I’ma degenerate nigga addicted to hydro, switchin' four lanes
Top down with my eyes closed, got a death wish
Money, drugz, and murderer shit
What you want with this? We’ll kidnap yo kids
And clap up yo crib, It’s the murderers
Who you know wit gunz that kill shit
Just because we’re them hot niggerz
Sell mo records than Roc niggas
I’ma lock it down for six months and shock niggas
What’s my name?
J the A R.U.L.E. with them hoez get between more sheetz than Isley
You can’t deny me, I’m the muthafuckin' one
Druggin' bitches like heron (heroin)
The god be the Rule, if you’re hot get bice and bice
On your jewel to cop a Benz
20-inch chrome, the shoes, I got nothin' to lose but everything to live for
Thoroughbred demand and supply the raw
I put my smackdown from N.Y. to Chi-Town
INC Murder spittin in' roundz
You don’t wanna her how it soundz, When we cock them flames
It’s Murda and ain’t shit gon' change
Niggas