Camouflage & Murder

(*talking*)
 Ay nigga, ain't you Mac
 What you doing in this motherfucker
 [Mac]
 Camouflage nigga what, you'll catch me in the cut
 Fucking shit up for every nigga, the bigger pig the bigger trigger
 Cause my niggaz, in the river
 Stories about the Mac, will make 'em shiver
 They prolly at they crib loading they techs, wondering who I'ma smoke next
 Patrolling they set, Malcolm X nigga
 The New Orleans Jesus, pack a tre-deuce
 And you can bring the drama to Zeus, if you heard about what that 3rd about
 Nigga feel that, that fake shit we bout to kill that
 On the for real black, I never show-boat
 Be on the low, like a black sto' the Mac flow
 Sorta like a cracked flo', a different plateau the Mac show
 When I attack though, I never turn my back cause
 The bullets, penetrate the back slow
 (*talking*)
 C-Murder (what nigga), man number 187
 (what's hap'n), oh you in on murder one
 (fucking right), get your shit boy you going upstate
 (fuck the world bitch)
 [C-Murder]
 Nigga I'm C, motherfucking Murder never scary
 But it's very necessary, to leave my adversaries buried
 Crack sales bring bitches in lines, but I'm eternal
 Lethal weapons stay cocked, many niggaz may drop
 From the top like flies, I despise you hoes
 With crooked smiles, make a nigga wanna 'nap your child
 Niggaz bleed, my enemies fearing attack
 They move with silence, when nigga bring the violence
 Do they know, me and my soldiers tighter than glue
 We pass bitches and weed, my nigga Mac planting seeds
 Let the devil tell it, bailing making the scene
 I whoop the nigga ass in jail, he was a dope fiend
 And no collect calls, ghetto pictures on the wall
 You gotta crawl and fall, before you ball nigga fuck y'all
 Around the way, my niggaz feel what I'm spitting
 It's Camouflage and Murder nigga, so pay attention bitch
 (*talking*)
 Curren$y, I hope you got currency
 Cause your bail two million dollars, you understand that
 You lil' rap mother-(hol-hol'-hol'-hol' up man
 I got two million dollars cash, call Stan
 I'm out this bitch, you heard me)
 [Curren$y]
 What you gon do, when you get out of jail
 Skerch off the scene, in a yellow ML
 4-30, Benz truck
 With four bitches inside, who all about letting a dog and his friends fuck
 I'm too large, for haters
 My niggaz smoke bud tote guns, picture they all on paper
 I'm talking bout niggaz like Big, you know who
 Ceedy, Wayne, Geezy fuck it the whole crew
 Uh we all roll with nines, and bout letting 'em fly
 But I try to stay on the low, with mine
 Catch lil' daddy slipping, point the 4-4 at his spine
 Leave your body in the forest, where no one can find
 And you boys, don't want none of that
 I know niggaz that look at jail time, like Summer camp holla back
 (*talking*)
 Yeah ya dank, ha-ha-ha