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Loose Change
These faggot ass niggas Ayo Buck, word to mother Yo, they had young Malcolm silenced too long, baby They can't fucking hold me down, nigga What the
fuck these niggas thought It's the
I-N-C, nigga It's Murder M-I-B nigga Murder Inc. Bosses, motherfuckers Ja Rule, ha ha Ayo Buck Turn this shit up in my motherfucking headphones Turn me up niggas Fuck these faggots, ha ha It's real nigga, yeah It's real nigga (ayo, word to mother) (Fuck you Loose Change, you faggot) Yeah, (Feminem I'ma slap the
shit out you bitch) Murder Inc., niggas How many niggas hold they heat like Rule Sidearm, barrel in mouth to blow your head out to the
south And let little J
get to airing you out And if there's any change left I
toss you on down to the
west And let (west side) the
road ride down on ya California Love is what you crave, so on you grave It's gonna read: "Here lie 50, who snitched on many That half a
dollar, that nickel, them dimes, and died like penny" And Murder Inc. will send they deepest condolences and sympathies To Aftermath and Shady, Interscope and Jimmy Iovine Ya know your team they really some peons Getting peed on and linked on I'm talking about faggot ass gay Dre Young And Suge told me all about how you used to take transvestites home And occasionally wear thongs No wonder Feminem be cross dressing in pumps and tight little dresses My pumps they leave big messes And I
know the
Truth Hurts when I
bust reckless Battle of the
sexes, is that a
woman or a
man? I
really don't care to stand, but 50 you gon' get shot again By the
M-U-R-E-D-R Inc I'm the
rapper that sings, totes guns and blings And these Fed's can't discuss 'em 'Cause Lighty's "Violating" us, using his powder puff (Fuck you man) crying bitch to Russell like: They shooting, ah Chris ya shook And got Bus' rhyming the
same old hook Like, they shooting, I
ain't shoot up ya Land I
oughta put ya in the
coroner van Like my nigga J-muah! The
dandruff Vanquish should be the
get away car When I
clap at your broads And Em, what's the
doo-rag for? You never gon' have waves, you'll never know black pain But you could become the
first white rapper slain Just get yo' money, man The
Inc. is running thangs, hideout with Loose Change And you nigga, I'ma send you to mommy With strict orders from Gotti to hide the
body And Dre, your day's coming too, 'cause I
got a
team of misfits That squat and handle they business 'Cause, I'm shooting, at all y'all niggas And Lil Mo, you just one of them bitches That ain't had a
hot song in how long, never Your better off with a
dick in your mouth, just shut up Em, you claim your mother's a
crackhead And Kim is a
known slut So what's Hailie gon' be when she grows up? Murder! Y'all know what it is Murder! Y'all know what it be Murder! Y'all know what it is Murder! I-N-C
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