Joell Ortiz - Murder lyrics

Oh yeah, it's him again! {"Joell Ortiz"} Y'all know the voice Always bless you with a new joint, sh** you never heard I need a place to lay low bro, cause this one is murder Check; cool as a fan, fresh as a new leather The new member in an argument of who's better The cool cheddar keep it New Yorican In a hoopty gettin brain from a chain on the Major Deegan The haters speakin, never mind playa The block ex-crack dime shaver turned best rhyme sayer The candy chewer, Laffy Taffy over Life Saver The orgasm every time, that's what the pipe gave her The gutter dweller, never nice neighbors The sour mixin with the Jack Daniel's to give it nice flavor The back in the days type gamer The used to hate Super Nintendo n***a that used to like Sega The clawed his way in the door rapper that's like Vega Never k**ed nobody, in that booth he's such a life taker The every other night somebody else's wife scraper The n***a makin veterans look like a 9th grader You goddamn right I'm that n***a {"Joell Ortiz"} Uhh, the talk of the town, clown when we in the party Karaoke sing on the low but yo don't tell nobody The never had nothin, now he doin hella co*ky The haters vomit from the smell of papi The low caesar with the sharp parts That might fiend on the scene with sixteens gettin green like a golf cart The beef lookin at the rest of y'all like Pop-Tarts Verses got y'all frownin up y'all faces like my mom's farts The N.Y. repper, don't dare side-stepper The casual dresser, low whites, light sweater The bike revver on a summer day The give the DJ so much heat they don't know which one to play! The E-1 gunner, used to be up under Trey Finna drop crack and not look back like a runaway The have fun every time he in the booth spitter The take on anybody, old n***a, new n***a Y'all think it's a game? I ain't playin! {"Joell Ortiz"} Uhh, the truth in the purest form The frontliner, first n***a to shoot when the war is on The hop on your beat and cruise like the Autobahn And force radio to play my version of all the songs The diddy bopper in the city proper The walk up in the strip club and throw it up like a sh**ty vodka The used to be a bu*t man turned titty clocker The hop up in the bed and beat it up kitty boxer Okay, the occasional kitty licker Only if her box is the sh**, kitty litter The good swimmer, Caribbean beach feet dipper The Rican whale size of three Flippers The flow stronger than the current in the winter in the East River The poker player, top pan with the mean kicker The hip-hop light, when it was in its darkest hour The can't do a song without at least one YAOWA This ain't gon' stop brother, heh {"Joell Ortiz"} {"Statik Selektah!"}