Pimp C - Murder lyrics

[Produced by Pimp C] [Verse 1: Pimp C] I'm still Pimp C b**h so what the f** is up? Puttin' powder on the streets cuz I got big f**in' nuts Comin' back from Louisiana in a Fleetwood Lac I just served them n***as some sh** to put they fiends on they back Got the pounds going for 4 cause you know I just pay 2 n***a bought thirty from me So I front him 42 He gon' pop for 700 times 62 24/8 is what I do so n***a f** what 'cha do If I told ya c**aine numbers, you would think I was lyin' Young n***as 22 is talkin' bout they retirin' In the game ain't a thang comin' foreign with Benz Brick home and two apartments where I entertain friends Mo bounce to the ounce cuz the Brougham the sh** I done got me 50 ounces out of birds in this b**h Tightin' up, no slack, b**hes checkin' my stock Got some birds I sell to n***as, some I go rock for rock Just got back from California kicked it with B-Legit Put me down with purple chronic and that hurricane sh** At the studio with Tone, I wish I could stay I got to holla at Master P, cuz we got money to make And when playaz from the South stack G'z man Like Ball I got to stack big cheeze man b**h say he wanna show you got nine grand? I ain't rappin' sh** until my money in my hand South Texas mutherf**a that's where I stay Gettin' money from yo b**hes every goddamn day Big paper I'm foldin' Hoes is on my mutherf**in' jock for all this dick that I be holdin' I hate clone men show it Especially them fools that take our style and act like my n***as don't know it Kick it with the trill n***as so you best not trip If ya keep on talkin' sh** my n***a empty the clip Ho a** n***a [Hook] Murder, Mur, Mur, Murder Murder, Mur, Mur, Murder Murder, Mur, Mur, Murder Murder, Mur, Mur, Murder Murder, Mur, Mur, Murder [Verse Two: Bun-B] Well it's Bun-B b**h, and I'm the king of movin' chickens' Not them finger lickins Stickin' n***as that be trickin' You need a swift kick in' yo a** is right for the pickin' Now as my pockets thicken I be kickin' nickel slickin' you sick when I be clickin' Now take a look at the Bigger n***a Malt liquor swigger Playa hata ditch digger Figure my hair trigger get a hot one in yo liver You shiver, shake, and quiver I'm frivolous if a n***a get wetter than a river For what it's worth it's the birth of some n***as doin' dirt f** her first and take off her skirt Now make the p**y hurt It's the Master Hit the Swisha faster then you fever blister ba*tard f** yo sister faster Fifty elbows for sale yo Brother better have my mail ho Fore I catch a murder case and go to jail Oh, hell no! Time to bail hit the trail so We can sell mo f**in' yayo get the scale No other bullet duckers can shove us out the game So they better buck us Cause the cluckers they love us Make them gla** dick s**ers Shake their jelly like Smucker's I hit like nun-chuckers Cause Short Texas bring the rukus This for my muthaf**ers Cookin' cheese to crooked G'z Rockin' up quarter keys Just to get the hook with ease Wannabes get on yo knees Feel the squeeze from them HK 1-3s From here to overseas We do what we please Don't trip cause we flip Light up a dip I'm breakin' 'em off from they hip to yo lip Go ask that boy Skip That n***a Bun rip With one clip, soon as the gun slip Now I done ripped out my Barrelli Flyin' through yo Pelle Pelle and Some smelly red jelly is drippin' out of ya belly Servin' 'em like a Deli jumped on my cellular telli Ho sell it like it's goin' out of style You can't see me Marcus so have a Motherf**in' Sweet and a smile Chorus: