Ja Rule — Its Murda Freestyle

[Intro: Ja rule] It's Murda (Ha-ha-ha) It's Murda We back up in this motherfucker! It's Murda Y'all know who we be (Yeah, ayo don't let me catch you runnin' out from the back of BET either, nigga) R.U.L.E. I.N.C. My nigga Fatal on the mutherfuckin' ones and twos Holla back, you bitch ass niggas [Verse 1: Ja Rule] Yo, cock sucka', I get squat and post and cock tha nina' In tha five series beamer, dump and lean ya I fell off on a misdemeanor, ride red over black madina's Take crazy for genius, hated like Jesus Christ My weakness always been bad bitches And new bills with creases, my thesis more than extraordinary And that nigga that got shot nine times could tell ya that I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck, God may I ask yo' permission to take his life This is grown man be "I" N-C to R-U-L-E extraordinary, one for the ages When done sawed off the front of them gauges To engage in combat To send you and 'fem' where your moms at Motherfucka you hear that And I ain't talkin about them heavenly skies I'm talkin' about fire from nines Or maybe the fifty cal' cause you like five-oh Or maybe somewhere in Cal where you like to lay low You bitch made, done heard about that bitch You been slayin', layin' up with, some where right off of Sunset Y'all haven't heard yet that nigga change is loose And I got proof, get it? "I got Proof" Yo vest is no use when we cock and flame It's Murda, (yeah) Murder Incorporated (ha ha) [Verse 2: Hussein Fatal] It's Murda (yeah) Hussein Fatal nigga (It's Murda) Muthafuckas... Rule' these niggas crazy, reppin' him without me "A.I" ain't in tha click, believe they won't win without me Yo, I'm small lil' homies, frail but bold Went from base to some bullshit like "Jalen Rose" Got my blind D-O-G's readin' brail and coats Keep tha heat in tha winter I can't tell it's cold Clean my set, pieced out flame the TEC Throw shots out niggas catch like "Wayne Cherbet" Son of a gangsta, Talk dirty son I'm a bang ya I'm tha truth with tha ox, keep gum on tha banger Hussein, the only reason hoes chase tha thugs Nigga blade part two I got tha taste for blood Log on Fatal.com, see fatal drop bombs More militant minded then y'all faded with 'Pac rhymes Clucthing tha stick beam, suckin' tha stick green Out tha window or tha sunroof, buckin' tha sixteen You ain't a gangsta 'Em', this is gangsta shit And "50" you ain't nuthin' but a gangsta bitch "Pac'" would have never did no song with no wanksta snitch He confusin' y'all he ain't tha shit We sex, money and murda you niggas Ain't no playin' around with this rap shit Banana clip, mack's spit bodies rap up in plastic This tha city where tha skinny niggas die (no) You heard my dogs this is tha city where tha skinny niggas ride nigga... [Outro: Hussein Fatal] Plaaattt... Hussein tha don Believe we got this shit poppin' in this muthafucka Rule' it's good... And we into tha muthafuckin' club you punk niggas walkin out Brick city, Rule, Rap- alot- mafia! Murda! Yound D', Merc, Exsaless These niggas ain't ready for this gansta shit right here We been doing this shit for a long time Ya'll niggas got the streets confused nigga We been on this gansta thug shit Bitch ass niggas you know what it is Every time we touch tha muthafuckin booth nigga It's gonna be fire, fire on you niggas asses Niggas better gracefully bow tha fuck out nigga Hussein Fatal' nigga, Rap-alot-mafia, nigga M.I.B nigga, murder inc bosses Rule' we here baby, brick city jerses mafia Yeah...Shadow...let's get it...