It's Murda (Freestyle)

(альбом: Blood In My Eye - 2003)

It's Murda (Ha-ha-ha)
It's Murda
We back up in this motherfucker!
It's Murda
Y'all know who we be
(Yeah, ayo don't let me catch you running from the back of BET either, nigga)
R.U.L.E. I.N.C.
My nigga Fatal on the motherfucking ones and twos
Holla back, you bitch ass niggas

Yo, cock sucker, I get squat and post and cocked 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 have always been bad bitches
And new bills with krisis, my thesis more than extraordinary
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 extraordinary, one for the ages
When then sawed off with the front of them gauges
To engage in combat
To send you and fem where yo moms at
Motherfucker you hear that
And I ain't talking about them heaven from skies
I'm talking 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 slaying laying 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)

It's Murda (yeah)
Hussein Fatal nigga (It's Murda)
Motherfuckers
Rule these niggas crazy, repping him without me
"A.I." ain't in the click, believe they won't win without me
Yo, I'm small li'l homies, frail but bold
Went from base to some bullshit like "Jalen Rose"
Got my blind D-O-G's reading Brail and coats
Keep the heat in the winter I can't tell it's cold
Clean my set, pieced out flame the TEC
Throw shots out niggas catch like "Wayne Cherbet"
Son of a gangster, talk dirty son I'm a bang ya
I'm the truth with the ox, keep gum on the banger
Hussein, the only reason hoes chase the thugs
Nigga blade part two I got the taste for blood
Log on Fatal.com, see fatal drop bombs
More militant minded then y'all faded with 'Pac rhymes
Clutching the stick beam, sucking the stick green
Out the window or the sunroof, bucking the sixteen
You ain't a gangster Em, this is gangster shit
And "50" you ain't nothing but a gangster bitch
"Pac" would have never did no song with no wanksta snitch
He confusing ya'll he ain't the shit
We sex, money and murder you niggas
Ain't no playing around with this rap shit
Banana clip, mack's spit bodies rap up in plastic
This the city where the skinny niggas die (no)
You heard my dogs this is the city where the skinny niggas ride nigga

Plat Hussein the don
Believe we got this shit popping in this motherfucker
Rule it's good
And we into the motherfucking club you punk niggas walking out
Brick city, Rule, Rap a lot mafia! Murda!
Yound D, Merc, Exsaless
These niggas ain't ready for this gangster shit right here
We been doing this shit for a long time
Ya'll niggas got the streets confused nigga
We been on this gangster thug shit
Bitch ass niggas you know what it is
Every time we touch the motherfucking booth nigga
It's gonna be fire, fire on you niggas asses
Niggas better gracefully bow the fuck out nigga
Hussein Fatal nigga, Rap-a lot-mafia, nigga
M.I.B. nigga, murder inc bosses
Rule we here baby, brick city jerses mafia
Yeah Shadow let's get it