murderers – holla holla remix lyrics
[ja rule]
it’s murda!
[jay-z]
yeah yeah, hova hova
we takin over soldier, told ya it’s murdaa
i’m here for that paper playa, f-ck one time
i’m here ta break ya playa one nine
make ya scream and holla partner
when i block ya partner
when i squeeze n-gg-z breathe like (ahh-hah, ahh-hah)
we the realest n-gg-z we killaz n-gg-z
we murderers, feel us?
[vita]
vita vita to all of my b-tches
that’s ready to flip dollars dollars
lemme hear you holla holla
gunshots pop up like it’s murda
ja’s a murdera
i’m the murderous b-tch
semi semi automatic in my fendi fendi bag
for any any hoes feelin envy envy if you choose to
but i got some killers that’ll bury and use you
it’s murda!
[black child]
n-gg- we do this for the doe doe, hurtin hurtin
y’all n-gg-z is curtains curtains
when the pound kick, round spit hit the ground quick
playa playa i hate a hater whose flow flow is so-so
midget n-gg-z who grow slow
fire fire when i spit, full clip
n-gg-z wet em wet em
whoever holdin the c-ke we’ll dead em dead em
all my thug n-gg-z and thug b-tches
this all it takes for paper if you feelin me
[chorus x2: ja rule]
(holla holla) all my n-gg-z thats ready to get
(dollars dollars) b-tches know who can get em a little
(hotta hotta) come on, if you rollin wit me
(follow follow) it’s murda.
[memphis bleek]
yeah, yeah
n-gg-z neva neva, seen a killa like bleek
you could get it get it in a second on these streets
now it’s memphis memphis and my gun bust tremendous
you aint you aint on my d-ck shorty but yo friend is
it’s murda murda for life
me and ja n-gg- hold that hold that
n-gg-z ain’t ready to die with us get it get it
make em feel it feel it all 16 comin from my .45 digits
[tah murda]
make you holla black cal is all about a dolla
dollars dollars n-gg- i’m from h-m-cide hollis
hate hoes that love to swallow swallow
we original robbers robbers wit revolvers
sippin henny and remi and remi wit any
wit tah spittin the semi spittin the semi
in any anybody could spit it spit it e
but can he live it live it
it’s murda motherf-cker don’t forget it!
[chorus x2]
[busta rhymes]
murda murda, yo, yo-yo yo
now what you ’bout to do?
lay you out on a stretcher
i betcha that when i get ya
i’ll make y’all n-gg-z leak from my lyrical lecture
and treasure the moment feel pleasure from when i wet ya (what!)
split ya cardiovascular up from the bullets we sent ya
listen we dishin our flava we cookin da kitchen (what!)
like we cookin and breakin our la-ast pot we got to p-ss in
i’m bout to cop an ounce of weed (how many wanna chip in?!)
and get a bunch of wild murderin n-gg-z
time is all we need to be flippin
[ja rule]
neva eva before fore
whatever reason you think you law
lord tell em i’ma n-gg- that clip it c-ck it and dead em
i’ma behead em for no flow, wet em if they dry slow
funny style n-gg-z i’ll lift like lo-lo’s
then pimp yo broke hoes (whoa!)
i’ma i’ma pop pop and leave leave n-gg-z gagged and shot
why why the f-ck not i’m a murderer murderin any
and everything that’s in my way – holla holla
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