Ja Rule - The Murderers lyrics

[Black Child] Word to god Y'all know who the f** this is You know we would kidnap yo kidz You know what the f** we do Murder b**h n***az like you For real, all the time, any place, anywhere Y'all n***az could get it Act like y'all don't know [rapping] In a world that's ice cold, blacks die slowly Cats snatch rollies, gats'll leave you holy My momma always told me the streetz will slow me down Daddy never showed me how the heat will hold me down So now I rob and steal, spit sh** you feal, wit a clique that k**s Yea my sh**'s that real, I hustle hard all my life Ran the streetz all night My wife alwayz said everything was gonna be ait And she was right and that's one reason why I love her But everything she said went in one ear and out the other Word to mother, look at it from a thug point of view When the kids need clothes, what a thug gon do? Hit the streetz and hustle, pick up the heat and bust you I'm tryin to eat like Russel Murda is my hustle But you keep chasin yestarday, you gon miss tomorow It's murda motherf**er we don't beg or borrow We take sh**, f** you and yo fake b**h, when the eight (.8mm) spit You could feel the hatred, taste it You high right now, you ain't ready to die right now The .45 will calm you down, you under trauma now It's drama how a child will shut sh** down k** a n******g for the f** of it I get you touched for chips f** that sh**, f** the whip, and f** you b**h YOU CAN JUST su*k MY DICK [Chorus] [ Black Child ] If you chasin yestraday, you gon miss tomorow It's murda motherf**er, we don't beg or borrow We take sh**, f** you and yo fake b**h When the .8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it It's your blood, when we show blood, we murderers (murdaraz) We throw slugz, we huselazz (huselazz) we sell drugz And tell thugz live it up till yo time stopz [Tah Murda] Yo I give a f** if y'all n***az hate me I drop bodies off where the lakes be But lately, I've been hitin cribz And safes where the cake be I take three to the vest for the love of the dolla I put that hot sh** thru you and watch you Holla Holla The same n***az that I ball wit I'ma brawl wit I'm a tank running in banks and takinall of it Player we're flawless, wit nutten to lose gunz bustin And brossen n******gz y'all can't live Funny sh** about it, n******gs wanna hit me, forget about it Thug sh** I'm still livin y'all n***az just spit about it I rob and stomp n***az 2/3rd of my life The other 1/3 spent sittin on curbz chasin those birdz If you ever get the urge to come by and try to test There's only one and then you get numb and lied to rest It's murda the only code to the ghetto It's murda, n***a hand me the bezzle And dance with the devil, gunz rapidly spit Gangsta sh**, attractin yo b**h, gettin head and lean back in the whip I mastered the chipz, n***a I'm tryin to tell you You're holdin hammers and nails and We have you where the dogz couldn't smell you [Chorus] [ Black Child ] If you chasin yestraday, you gon miss tomorow It's murda motherf**er, we don't beg or borrow We take sh**, f** you and yo fake b**h When the .8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it It's your blood, when we show blood, we murderers (murdaraz) We throw slugz, we huselazz (huselazz) we sell drugz And tell thugz live it up till yo time stopz [Ja Rule] Ja's a muthaf**in problem Any n***a think not, I'ma pop him Put the lean on n***az the minute I spot em Who's gettin it, I got him n***a dead and gone Gonna guide em to the cross roads show em how those gunz blow I'ma degenerate n***a addicted to hydro, switchin four lanes Top down wit my eyes closed, got a d**h wish Money, drugz, and murderer sh** What you want with this? We'll kidnap yo kids And clap up yo crib, It's the MuRdErAz Who you know wit gunz that k** sh** Just because we're them hot n******gz Sell mo records than Roc n***az I'ma lock it down for six months and shock n***az What's my name? J the A R.U.L.E. with them hoez get between more sheetz than Isley You can't deny me, I'm the muthaf**in one Druggin b**hes like Heron(h**n) The god be the Rule, if you're hot get bice and bice On your j**el to cop a Benz 20 inch chrome, the shoes, I got nuttin to lose but everything to live for Thoroughbread demand and supply the raw I put my smash down from N.Y. to Chi-Town INC Murder spittin in roundz You don't wanna her how it soundz, When we co*k them flames It's Murda And ain't sh** gon change n***az!!!