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murder inc. records - murderers lyrics

[black child]
uh huh, we did it
motherf-cker
somebody gotta do it
it gotta get done, why not get it done with the gun?
word to god
yo yo yo

[chorus: ja rule] x2
murderer, inside must be hollow
k!ll us today or you’ll have to k!ll us tomorrow
murderer, inside must be shallow
how does it feel to take a life of another?

[black child]
it’s murda and its not a game
y’all gonna feel the flames and a lotta pain
let me explain from day one its murda one with no gun
taking income, makin b-tch n-ggas run
the nine-one-one roll up n-gga what
we got the four pound tucked, the porsche look plush
n-ggas get f-ckin clapped and k!lled for flossin
that probably why n-ggas get k!lled so often
nothin’ to live for type a n-gga i did a bid for
snitch b-tch n-ggas that ain’t built for war
is it because we ain’t got no love for thugs
and slugs for drugs, the worlds most murderous
black child, n-gga you know how the f-ck i do
put two in you, then puff a blunt at your funeral
i might touch yo’ cl1ck and f-ck yo’ b-tch
but you never heard a n-gga spit sh-t like this

[chorus]

[tah murda]
when i’m gunnin’ i’m coming on dope sh-t rubber grip
four sh-t on the sawed off, blowin’ the doors off the range rov’ sh-t
fo’ sho’ this, is somethin’ we die for
and my murderers i lie and fry for
murder man, when the sh-t hit the fan
the plan formulate, for instance, f-ck a percentage you need the all the cake
put the four to snakes make ’em lay for raw
f-ck the game, cause n-gga i don’t play no more
size ’em up, nevermind if you ridin’ tough
count ’em out ’til his eyes is puff, despising us
i got hungry thugs that’ll tie you up
and they ain’t got a problem with, snub nose revolver sh-t
we hard to hit, my mom’s a crip
we thirsty n-ggas that’ll rob ya b-tch for the love of the chips
so when i’m soaking the whip, y’all n-ggas keep hatin’
gotta stash where the heats placed in, paper i keep chasin’
motherf-cker, uh uh

[chorus]

[ja rule]
yo, yo
forever young this face k!lls so many all die, n-gga must i?
confess my sins, to the souls of the unknown, why?
would you ever disrespect my n-ggas
we murderous engines that lead to lynchin’s
index, itching, ready to run up and hit ’em
let the teflon spin ’em, they say “look how ja did ’em”
i a murderer, inc’ed and blood you know you heard of us
murderers juts because we the shh
make a n-gga much harder to hit with the ox
we can take it back, give me five minutes in the box
or trade hot rocks ’til one of us drops
nothin but sh-lls and you can hear the shot for blocks
i’m giving ’em h-ll, while n-ggas steady hollerin’ “stop”
i spit sixteens with aim and continue to pop
motherf-ckers, what’choo want with this sh-t
the murders i-n-c, n-gga

[chorus]

- murder inc records lyrics

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