A-Team (Ransom & Hitchcock) - Murdah Muzik lyrics

[Intro] [Driver:] Now you never go at Jefferson huh? [Jackie Cogan:] My friend, Thomas Jefferson is an American saint Because he wrote the words 'All men are created equal' Words he clearly didn't believe Since he allowed his own children to live in slavery He's a rich white snob who's sick of paying taxes to the Brits So, yeah, he writes some lovely words And aroused the rabble and they went and died for those words While he sat back and drank his wine and f**ed his slave girl This guy wants to tell me we're living in a community? Don't make me laugh I'm living in America And in America you're on your own America's not a country. It's just a business Now f**in' pay me [Verse 1: Hitchco*k] We like a platoon, I be with some wild wild boys In the saloon k**in like some wild cowboys Bow down boys, and you could eat chow down boys Or get hit with the pound sound boy f** a shot, I don't f** with cops n***a, I'm like Al Capone Once they release you they gon eat you outta house and home co*k back, leave your mouth with chrome You been a hater, dump you in incinerators, never found yo bones Now we got the coke back bouncing We c**aine cowboys, we Brokeback Mountain Flow like a fountain, throw on a thousand 900 stacks, that's racks, you in housing We tryna get real estate Do the right thing, left it right wing in the real estate I feel the hate as I feel the buzz Build a buzz sorta like the high that you feel from d** And I don't need rehab I could play with The Rock, this sh** off like Steve Nash Medicinal though, got the weed pa** Everything official the flow, I can see cash Money, everybody gully Full clip in my wall reach with the skully Snug fit on my thug sh** Got that 38 with the snub tip I ain't stressin please, u stressed at D's Powder every where, like Zeppoles Why you all timid? ‘Cus my pockets got a buldge in it? I'm in the hood and I indulge in it Authentic, yall fabricated The whips all tinted, just done masqueraded that I had to say ‘Cus now I'm getting aggravated I'm mad they hated, they never congratulated [Verse 2: Ransom] n***as mad I don't show gratitude Walk in these rapper shoes I ain't gotta respect these n***as who paid half the dues I can scream out names but then what that'll prove? Jerry Heller, these fat n***as who got an attitude This is our coast, pull strings like a tar nose Turn a live n***a into compost There ain't no convos ‘cus eulogy is coming to in 3's Through the greeze you can freeze in the coolest breeze Think you should leave, n***as ain't too into yo' bars Cus n***as pointin fingers Arsenio Hall There's a live band playing, gun in the guitar case Scarface, shootout speeding while in a car chase Both the gav n***as on park place Raw apes, look at the look at Nicki Minaj' face Look at these phony n***as you call great I lost faith between shootouts, k**ings and court dates I'm bra**, what can I say? Filthiest n***a in the church like can I pray? Grimiest n***a on the bench like can I play? And leave these incognito n***as MIA ah People that judge us, I bet they suffer twice Drop the ME's, n***a look up to Christ You ain't gotta believe, n***a I'm f**in nice Me and Hitch best two men ever to clutch a mic