Murder Rap (feat. Armageddon)

Lyrics

Uh oh, uh oh
 Let's get it over with
 Yo sound boy turn the levels up
 Let's get it over with, uh
 Terror Squad up in this motherfucker
 Where my real niggaz at?
 My Bronx niggaz, my fast niggaz
 I see you Lil' Hat! Uh, Ah aha!
 It's time to take it to these niggaz right here
 Yeah, yo, yo
 Who wanna spaz out? Crunchtime, blow ya abs out
 Leave you in the fetal position, witcha ass out
 Ready to mash out any crew actin' like
 They the true facts of life, frontin' through the camera lights
 Despite, we hold it down regardless
 I got Def Jam suckin' me like, "I wish you was my artist"
 For starters, who's the largest cat?
 Get a hundred grand from my most garbage rap
 Now how hard is that? Everything we spit be hot
 Whether it's live on Flex or in front of the chicken spot
 Grimed out, we really live what you rhyme 'bout
 See me posted up in the Tunnel, with my shines out
 Ice cold like Alaska when I pass ya
 Got girls shakin', losin' they breath, as if they catchin' asthma
 Headed to the bar to pop some bottles
 Now we in the car headed home to rock some models
 All I hear in the background is Gucci and Prada
 But I'm tryin' to gas these bitches to screw me for Nada
 We the best that done it, confess you fronted
 Anybody wanna test how much straps, you want it?
 Aiyyo the gangsta's back
 Stop it right where you at
 Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap
 Tell them thug niggaz, listen to that
 Gotchu feelin' it hard like Joe the God's really bringin' it back
 I'm from my days and legends, since age eleven
 I was the cause of dope fiends catchin' AIDS infections
 Most of us are dead, but the rest is locked
 Runnin' in the rec room and check me out on the box
 A CEO could get optioned tryin' to change the channel
 It's like tryna take the flesh outta the mouth of hungry cannibals
 Joe the God, the flow is hard
 Known for packin' two dozen birds like Noah's Ark
 I'm the realest of 'em, make you feel the pressure
 Catch you at a club, smack you up, steal ya leather
 You niggaz soften me, beat you out of the mix
 Tough talk, tough walk, but you cry like a bitch
 I see you downin' the Cris', I'm not hatin', I'm just aggrevated
 I ask myself every day, how these faggots made it?
 Fuck around with the don and get decapitated
 I'm sick of hearin 'em souls for all the cats that made it
 Aiyyo the gangsta's back
 Stop it right where you at
 Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap
 Tell them thug niggaz, listen to that
 Gotchu feelin' it hard like Joe the God's really bringin' it back
 Aiyyo the kid is back
 Leave it right where you at
 Let a real nigga hold that, you probably won't clap
 Tell them thug niggaz, move it on back
 I'm feelin' tight and I'm hot
 Ready to pop the crack right through your back
 That's how Kenny rocks, I'm more advanced than how your learnin'
 I'm like the force of space balance and planets while they churnin'
 Poppin' rosary beads, piss on ya candle while it's burnin'
 Rush ya widows crib and pop ya, bodies
 Now I know you can feel the heat I generate
 Imagine when I penetrate ya stomach, and make ya body's center bake
 We can argue for days, whether it's faster to drop five shots
 In ya astronaut before you cloud the stash box
 Splash ya brains on ya birds' laps
 Swerve you on the curb, crash the Range, and push the front skirt back
 And murk after that, blurtin' curse words
 Yo I popped that nigga's son one before we catch the first
 I'ma kill any murderer, leave a nigga burpin' up
 Blood, chokin' on chunks of his lung interior
 Every verse that I spit's a personal riff
 I meet a ill key frontin', I'm a murder you shit
 Niggaz play me while disturbin' the Bricks
 I'm like the feelin' of the first time they ever held a bird in they grip
 Motivator thug, scrape 'em, shoot the bolts in his butt
 Energizin 'em up, make 'em wanna open 'em up
 Actin' like I can't happen till I smack him in his Adam's apple
 Death to rappin', I don't wanna battle
 I'd rather rush your studio session and shatter the booth
 Clap at ya face, give the mic feedback the goof
 Aiyyo the gangsta's back
 Stop it right where you at
 Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap
 Tell them thug niggaz, listen to that
 Gotchu feelin it hard like Joe the God's really bringin' it back
 Aiyyo the kid is back
 Leave it right where you at
 Let a real nigga hold that, you probably won't clap
 Tell them thug niggaz, move it on back
 I'm feelin' tight and I'm hot
 Ready to pop the crack right through your back

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:17
Key
2
Tempo
125 BPM

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