Silkk The Shocker

Silkk The Shocker - Murder lyrics

Your rating:
  

 





(feat. Big Ed, Master P)


Y'all niggaz ready for this Silkk the Shocker shit?

(Y'all niggaz out there bangin) Switch! (claimin red and blue)

Y'all niggaz bout it? Nigga be a leader not a follower

(my muthafuckin TRU tatoo) Uuunnnggghhh!


[Chorus (2X):] 

Murder, murder, murder, murder

187, cause I don't give a fuck


[Silkk]

Well, it's time to ride, slide

them niggaz that fucked up, they lucked up

Seen them niggaz rollin in they cutlass

I'm about act bad, no doubt, I'm a go in they house

And if they home, I'm a blast, take them niggaz out

Cause we be bout drama, no fuck that, we bout killin

Drama, fuck all that, stay real when it's time to peel

Caps, no doubt, hah I check the house

Cause I ain't gon be satisfied till all ya'll stressed out

That's a fuckin shame, I ain't gon be satisfied til I see blood, nigga

What you think we was doin before we was rappin, we was drug dealers

You think I'm a let this shit slide cause I done got fame

Fuck the name, I can't have shit in this fuckin game

Without niggaz tryin to test nuts, tryin to act bad

I'm a fuck you nigga

you gon have a closed casket and I'm gon crack yo mask

You talkin shit, but, bitch, it's goin down

See I was locked up for a second, but now I'm home now

It's time for niggaz to get checked, they done pushed me to the limit

I was a cool nigga, but now, it's only the beginnin

It's time to ride, when it's time to slide, you die

No doubt about it, act bad, let's put that on the vibes


[Chorus (2X)]


[Master P]

Mr. Wicked, I be comin hard, just like a hurricane

Choo-choo, shootin brains, killin Mr. Murder, mad

Hustla, balla, Mr. fuckin Do-a-reporter

Don't give a fuck about a bitch or a balla

Break me off proper, gun in that doctor

Gats at yo head, call me Mr. Non-stopper

Tech 9 shooter, lady, ruder

Down South hustla, West Coast ruler

3rd Ward villian, I'm in the killin

They ban my videos from TV, they say they drug dealin

Ice cream slangin, 

And if the radio don't play this gangsta shit, what are they thinkin?

They could stop, a nigga from comin up

They could stop a young nigga from makin big bucks

Independent, and black owned

But still got more money than Al Capone

Y'all niggaz can't stop a killa,

A murder, a hustla, fuck it, a drug deala

But if they shoot, did up with police

Ready to run dope from here to the Middle East

And call me Mr. Paul

Cause I be smokin muthafuckas like Steven Seagal

Mr. Killa, the ghetto Kadofy

And 187 on any nigga that try to stop me


[Chorus (2X)]


[Big Ed]

Niggaz, they want to start some stack

but if they stack then let it be started

And at your funeral, I want to here em say dearly departed

Because I got it on my mind and on my mind I got's it

When I pop ya with this heart rock

make your heart stop cause I'm bout it

Jack you like a New Jersey drive

My niggaz are always down for that who ride, I ride

Creep with these killas on our tippy tippy toes

See the barrel knows where the bullet go

and then we smash off in that 4 by 4

See we rolled on ya set and then bucked

A bunch of niggaz fallen and they can't get up

You wants to fuck with this TRU click and get ya khakis creased

Get your shirt pressed and the bullets rip through yo chest

TRU niggaz don't fall, fool, we to busy flossin

It might be your ho we tossin

Step to us and we make ya hits like Michael Jackson

Cause every nigga in my crew is bout it and we packin


[Chorus (2X)]


Ha ha. Now y'all know. We run the muthafuckin streets.

No Limit. True to the game. Silkk the Shocker.

This shit go out to all y'all gangsta niggaz and gangsta bitches

(soldiers) from Richmond (Atlanta) Down South (Alabama)

to the East Coast (to the West Coast)

to motherfuckin Kentucky, Missouri (to Florida) to Dallas (Houston)

to New Orleans (Austin, Texas) to muthafuckin Miami (D.C.) to

Cinnicinnati (Ohio) to D.C. (North Carolina, South Carolina) fuckin

Baton Rouge (Oklahoma) Mississippi (Kansas City) Lafayette (Georgia,

Seattle, Washington) Detroit (Omaha, Nebraska) Chicago (Phoenix)

To all y'all muthafuckin ghetto (Alberquerque) gangsta (Indiana) real

niggaz and bitches (all y'all niggaz that's locked up) everywhere.

Murder, murder, murder, murder. Ha ha.

But y'all niggaz betta watch y'all ass

(watch y'all ass) so y'all won't get caught up in motherfuckin 187

(a 187)

Cause every nigga I know is bout it (Bout it!)

Nigga that mean don't trust nobody (these niggaz rowdy)

cause the sreets is real. Believe that.
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found