Murder Weapon

Lyrics

(*talking*)
 Ha Slim Thug, E.S.G., Boss Hogg Outlaws
 My boy C on the track, putting it down like this
 Live from the Manger baby
 You boys out there on that chrome, watch your back
 Slippers get got, feel this
 (can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)
 [E.S.G.]
 Now keep the sell us on the real, it's from the man with the grill
 E.S.G. what's up Bun B, you from the land of the trill
 Trying to get our hand on a mill, don't give a damn how they feel
 I know my hood real, you see us working wood wheel
 What's the deal, we still riding dirty in Texas
 Got something you never seen, a 4-30 Lexus
 Riding reckless bending corners, you slip you's a goner
 That cat in that mask, was something mo' than marijuana
 Yokohamas for twenties, riding vogues with swangas
 Three TV with a DVD, Playstation 2 with disc changer
 From Southside to the Manger, Boss Hoggs be wrecking
 Leaving jackers confused, like presidential elections
 Bubble dried what we got, where we put our cash
 Keep on crying bout us, I'ma put my foot in your ass
 Put a hole in your mask, for trying to stop our shine
 Got a glock in my lap, at all times
 [Hook - 2x]
 We keep one up in the chamber, strapped for danger
 These boys'll get you, for your twenties or swangas
 Midwest, Dirty South, represent where you from
 (can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)
 [Slim Thug]
 Slippers get got, jackers get shot
 If I catch em trying to plot, in my parking lot
 They got me for my drop, now I shop at Topeka lot
 I wasn't high, cause Rodney D. Young, shot me a knot
 Got back on my feet, one month later, back on the street
 Twenties inches I be, on my big body fleet
 Yeah you caught me slipping, but I'ma charge it to the game
 But when I catch you slipping, I'ma put one in your frame
 [E.S.G.]
 Gon be a mask in Texas, but without change songs
 Especially if them folks, pass them gun control laws
 I'm trying to roll like my papa, retire one day
 Till then I'm on MLK, it's on found sun down
 Now what's up Southside, we smoking trees to the dawn
 Forget to turn the alarm, and find your TV's gone
 Get your brains blown, that glock'll pop your ass
 Or should I let the electric fist, shock your ass
 [Hook]
 We keep one up in the chamber, strapped for danger
 These boys'll get you, for your twenties or swangas
 East Coast, West Coast, represent where you from
 (can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)
 We keep one up in the chamber, strapped for danger
 These boys'll get you, for your twenties or swangas
 Midwest, Dirty South, represent where you from
 (can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)
 [Slim Thug]
 Ride with me, and come see what that North be like
 We sip syrup and Sprite, and let our mind take flight
 Bub light shine bright, when we creep at night
 With red eyes and bad sight, cause we don't sleep at night
 I'm from the side known for jacking, placking and pistol packing
 It's like New Jersey Drought, but these boys ain't acting
 They'll break you off, if you live on the North or the South
 Cause it don't matter where you from, or where you floss
 It's every man for himself, out here
 And that's why we thugged out, and ride with no fear
 It look like it's getting better, year by year
 But I still got my chrome baretta, here in the clear
 But it ain't all bad, matter fact it's all good
 Cause it go down, every night up in my hood
 We sip pints, blow kill and just chill
 We all from the North, but we all gone still for real
 [Hook - 2x]
 (*talking*)
 Ha, that's on the real baby
 Know I'm saying, 2001 2000 and 2
 Huh, Boss Hogg Outlaws we ain't half stepping
 (can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)
 It go down, I don't care where you at
 What's up East Coast, know I'm saying
 New York, down Jersey, Virginia, all them boys out there
 I know y'all got y'all murder weapon
 (can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)
 What what, Midwest ha, where you at know I'm saying
 St. Louis, on up through, I know them boys out there
 Got they murder weapon, you know what I'm saying, keep it real nigga
 (can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)
 What what, all my West Coast dogs, you know what I'm saying
 That C walking, B walking doing your god damn thang
 I know you got your motherfucking murder weapon out there baby
 (can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)
 Huh huh, what what down here in the Dirty South
 That's how we do it, Boss Hogg Outlaws, Big Dinero Entertainment
 Boss Hogg Entertainment, S-E-S, what what what
 My big dog Sin huh, that's the style
 Them boys got they murder weapon, what's up M-O-E
 Ha it's going down boy, feel this
 (can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon), huh

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
06:18
Key
6
Tempo
142 BPM

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