Murder

Fuck this motherfucker, he just got love, you know what I mean?
 Because we got to get out here, ain't no place here for us
 You know what I mean? But that motherfucker, I need to kill him
 That's all
 Murder (huh), mur-
 Murder (talkin' 'bout a murder), mur-
 Murder (huh), mur- mur-
 Murder (check it out)
 I'm still Pimp C bitch, so what the fuck is up?
 Puttin' powder on the streets 'cause I got big fuckin' nuts
 Comin' back from Louisiana in a Fleetwood 'Lac
 I just served them niggas some shit to put they fiends on they back
 Got the pounds going for four 'cause you know I just paid two
 Nigga bought 30 from me, so I fronted 42
 He gon' pop for 700 times 62
 24, eight is what I get, so nigga, fuck what you do
 If I told ya cocaine numbers, you would think I was lyin'
 Young-ass niggas, 22, is talkin' 'bout they retirin'
 In the game, ain't a thang, comin' foreign with Benz
 Brick-ass home, two apartments, where I entertain friends
 More bounce to the ounce 'cause the Brougham the shit
 I done got me 50 ounces out a bird in this bitch
 Tighten up, no slack, bitches checkin' my stock
 Got some birds I sell to niggas, some I go rock for rock
 Just got back from California, kicked it wit' B-Legit
 Put me down wit' purple chronic and that hurricane shit
 At the studio with Tone, man, I wish I could stay
 I got to holla at Master P 'cause we got money to make
 And when playas from the South stack Gs, man
 Like Ball, I gotta stack big cheese, man
 Bitch say he want a show, you got nine grand?
 I ain't rappin' shit until my money in my hand
 South Texas, motherfucker, that's where I stay
 Gettin' money from your bitches every Goddamn day
 Big paper, I'm foldin' (foldin')
 Hoes is on my motherfuckin' jock for all this dick that I be holdin'
 I hate clone men, show it
 Especially them fools that take our style and act like my niggas don't know it
 Kick it wit' the trill niggas, so you best not trip
 If ya keep on poppin' shit, my nigga, empty the clip, hoe-ass nigga
 Murder, mur-
 Murder, mur-
 Murder, mur- mur-
 Murder
 Murder, mur-
 Murder, mur-
 Murder, mur-mur-
 Murder
 Well, it's Bun B, bitch, and I'm the king of movin' chickens
 Not them finger-lickings, stickin' niggas that be trickin'
 You need a swift kickin', yo' ass is ripe for the pickin'
 Now as my pockets thicken, I'm deep-thinkin', nickel-slickin'
 You sick when I be clickin', now take a look at the bigger nigga
 Malt liquor swigger, player hater, ditch digger
 Figure my hair trigger, give a hot one in yo' liver
 You shiver, shake, and quiver, I'm frivolous if a
 Nigga get wetter than a river, for what it's worth, it's the birth
 Of some niggas doin' dirt, fuck her first night, take off the skirt
 Make her pussy hurt, Mister Master, hit the
 Swisha faster, than you fever blistered bastards, fucked
 Your sister, passed her, fifty elbows for sale, yo'
 Brother better have my mail, hoe, 'fore I catch a
 Murder case and go to jail, oh hell no, time to bail
 Hit the trail so, we can sell mo' fuckin' yayo
 Get the scale, no other bullet duckers can shove us
 Out of this game, they better buck us, 'cause the cluckers, they love us
 Make them glass dick suckers shake they jelly like Smucker's
 I hit like nunchakus, 'cause short Texas bring the ruckus
 This for my motherfuckers, cookin' cheese to crooked Gs
 Rockin' up quarter keys to get the hook with ease
 Wanna-be's get on your knees, feel the squeeze from them
 HK13s, from here to overseas
 We do what we please, don't trip 'cause we flip, light up a dip
 I'm breakin' 'em off, from they hip to your lip, go ask that boy Skip
 That nigga Bun rip, wit' one clip, soon as the gun slip
 Now I done whipped out my Barrelli, flyin' through
 Your Pelle Pelle and some smelly red jelly is drippin'
 Out of ya belly, served 'em up like a deli, jumped on
 My cellular tele', hoe sell it like it's goin' out of style
 You can't see me, Marcus, so have a motherfuckin' Sweet and a smile
 Murder, mur-
 Murder, mur-
 Murder, mur-mur-
 Murder