Ja Rule — The Murderers

[Intro: Black Child] Word to God Y'all know who the fuck this is You know we would kidnap your kids You know what the fuck we do Murder bitch niggas like you For real, all the time, any place, anywhere Y'all niggas could get it Act like y'all don't know [Verse 1: Black Child] In a world that's ice cold, Blacks die slowly Cats snatch rollies, gats'll leave you holy My momma always told me: the streets will slow me down Daddy never showed me how heat will hold me down So now I rob and steal, spit shit you feel With a clique that kills, yeah my shit's that real I hustle hard all my life, ran the streets all night My wife always said everything was gonna be alright 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 gonna do? Hit the streets and hustle, pick up the heat and bust you I'm tryin' to eat like Russell, murder is my hustle But you keep chasin' yesterday, you gonna miss tomorrow It's murder motherfucker we don't beg or borrow We take shit, fuck you and your fake bitch, when the .8 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 shit down Kill a nigga for the fuck of it, I'll get you touched for chips Fuck that shit, and fuck your whips, fuck you bitch You can just suck my dick [Chorus: Black Child] If you chasin' yesterday, you gon miss tomorrow It's murder motherfucker, we don't beg or borrow We take shit, fuck you and your fake bitch When the .8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it It's your blood, when we show blood, we murderers (murderers) We throw slugs, we hustlers (hustlers) we sell drugs And tell thugs live it up till yo time's up [Verse 2: Tah Murda] Yo I give a fuck if y'all niggas hate me I drop bodies off where the lakes be But lately, I've been hittin' cribs And safes where the cake be I take three to the vest for the love of the dollar I put that hot shit thru you and watch you Holla Holla The same niggas that I ball wit I'mma brawl wit I'm a tank running in banks and takin' all of it Player we're flawless, wit' nothin' to lose Guns bustin & bruisin' niggas, y'all can't live Funny shit about it, niggers wanna hit me, forget about it Thug shit I'm still livin' y'all niggas just spit about it I rob and stomp niggas 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 murder the only code to the ghetto It's murder, nigga hand me the bezel Or dance with the devil, guns rapidly spit Gangsta shit, attractin' yo bitch, gettin' head and lean back in the 6 I mastered the chips, Nigga I'm tryin' to tell you You're holdin' hammers and nail you We have you where the dogs couldn't smell you [Chorus: Black Child] If you chasin' yesterday, you gonna miss tomorrow It's murder motherfucker, we don't beg or borrow We take shit, fuck you and yo fake bitch When the .8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it It's your blood, when we show blood, we murderers (murderers) We throw slugs, we hustlers (hustlers) we sell drugs And tell thugs live it up till yo time's up [Verse 3: Ja Rule] Ja's a muthafuckin' problem Any nigga think not, I'ma pop him Put the lean on niggas the minute I spot em Who's gettin' it, I got him, nigga dead and gone Gonna guide 'em to the crossroads show em how those gunz blow I'ma degenerate nigga addicted to hydro, switchin' four lanes Top down with my eyes closed, got a death wish Money, drugs, and murderer shit What you want with this? We'll kidnap yo kids And clap up yo crib, It's the murderers Who you know wit guns that kill shit Just because we're them hot niggerz Sell more records than Roc niggas I'ma lock it down for 6 months and shock niggas What's my name? J the A the R.U.L.E. with them hoes get between more sheets than Isley You can't deny me, I'm the muthafuckin' one Druggin' bitches like heron (heroin) The don be the Rule, if you're hot get bice and bice On your jewel to cop a Benz 20-inch chrome, the shoes, I got nothin' to lose but everything to live for Thoroughbred demand and supply the raw I put my smack down from N.Y. to Chi-Town Incorporated Murder spittin' them rounds You don't wanna her how it sounds, When we cock them flames It's Murder and ain't shit gonna change Niggas