Crooked I - Connected lyrics

Woooooo Murder Inc Motherf**er [Hook: Chink Santana] We world wide connected, and ya'll don't want to f** with us In the streets we respected, so ya'll don't want to f** wit us World wide connected n***a, ya'll don't want to f** wit us We gangster a** n***as and we hard to hit Murder Inc in the role who could f** wit this [Eastwood] It ain't no verse mother f**ers who fake east thugs Its murder Inc and the Row n***a throw up your dub They show us love in the club real n***as bossed up man We heavily intoxicated so toss it up Attacks your mind and your conscience Written to enhance this verbally thugs grammar I'm bout to touch the roof wit it Extraordinary and I was never ordinary in cemetery Bisit my thugs in mortuaries End all most reality young name and 'Pac I'm a keep my heat tucked until my soul goes pop I hear a lot of n***as rapping But there ain't that many rappers out there scraping and keep it cracking We keep it happening I'm a million out the gate No scratch that 8 from cd's to tapes we rock like earthquakes I'm Eastwood catch me dipping a Fleetwood like a g should Young Eastwood is so damn good [Hook] [Crooked I] n***a think that I is raw spit Murder Inc and Tha Raw, we all sick So n***as Involved get mauled quick as a dog and the raw gets you involved And I'm a draw quick, n***a awwww sh** Punks talking lick I haul off quick Wit a sawed off kick It's like they fall off cliffs Y'all call it off before all y'all get stoned Like you're fallen off in a raw mosh pit Get tossed in a ditch your coffin is sick While I floss in the awesomest whips and I toss in your chicks Your caution when your calling your six Cause your talk can get you crossed and lost in the mix I'm a pause in the b**h bossed in the pits Burn I serve n***as stay off at ya clique Spend off with ya grip my land of gangreen You have the doctors taking your leg off of your hip Motherf**er! [Hook] [Ja Rule] All y'all n***as need to get off my dick I spit it how I live it plus the flows real sick Bronchial eating I got k**ers ranged from Compton to Cleveland World wide connected air tight n***as there's no breathing Give me the reason I put a halo throw your mental And give your the Holy Spirit and see you to gods temple I'm the avenging angle and earth be thy claim And Ja be thy name, I know your all praying For the day of my diminishing Why don't somebody finish them off and put it right through his cross The X's The 50'S ya'll gotta be kidding me These n***as is my sons Raised them from young Curtis and lil earl, should of been little girls Coz they b**hmade now they act like one of my itchbays Touche the rule is more than ready Gun heavy, and worldwide connected feel me? [Hook]