C-Bo - Murder That He Ritt lyrics

[Verse 1:C-Bo] I don't know judo But down with you, you know Strapped with two Glocks Gone off some Kuno Headed for the house party on the southside Four deep in a ragtop six five Hella b**hes (hella b**hes) Hanging out the window k**er Cali style [?] eight fifty-fizzle Hoes don't stack Cause n***as been balling crack since the mac (since the mac) Packing they gat and won't think twice to bust a cap (buck) Sportin' a brim like Freddy Krueger Some drinking heavy shooters (shooters) All strapped down with two Rugers (with two rugers) I pull over hit the juice on my ride I got front and back and side to side In murder that he writ [Hook] (The murder show) The murder that he writ (The murder show) In the murder that he writ [Verse 2:C-Bo] I'm a born soldier to these hell made streets In my dreams when my back is turned somebodies murderin' me (Uh) I'm waking up in cold sweat Every little noise I'm hopping out the bed reaching for my tec (tec) And I'm on the streets I'm very high on paranoia Looking for the neighborhood destroyas I'd rather murder than be dead confused Celebrating my birthday in the news (uh) I drop tears for my dead homies And spent years trying to get my money And pack a tec for you phonies And get minds on my only Turning motherf**ers into rest in peace homies [Hook] [Verse 3:C-Bo] (Murder) See, I'm a G from the block and when there's funk it's on (it's on) I'll be the n***a with a strap to your homies dome Headbu*tin' Crushing them bones With that HK, Buck 'em (Buck Buck Buck Buck) Sittin' that a** down Retaliatin' be some out of state negroes (negroes) Decapitate and leaving afros in steel toes (steel toes) Some more hardcore k**ers (k**ers) Balling dope dealers(dope dealers) Klu Klux [?] The real deal'ah Bailing your hood like thrillah You're either k**a, or [?] again k**ed by the k**a Now what do you prefer? It's best that you disperse Or be the next verse [Hook] [Verse 4:C-Bo] Now here comes the big gangster Hopping out the regal Pants sagging,Fat pockets eagle (fat pockets) Fifty Cali style Stacking up G's by the pound Sipping armoretto (armoretto) Packing a throwaway beretta And been in it to win it since the beginning So when I pose took the slugs with my .44 leaving n***as froze It's f** you ho's in the mind of a psycho Kicking off rides when the lights go I did my time on the cell block for selling rocks I'd rather let the cops shell shock then get popped So next time I'll protect mine with my tec-9 Having wreck time They can't check mine [Hook] [Outro] 187 k**er