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Текст (слова) песни: Fat Joe - Murder Rap



[fat joe]

Uh-oh, uh-oh..

Lets get it over with.

Yo sound boy turn the levels up

Lets get it over with, uh!

Terror squad up in this motherfucker

Where my real niggaz at?

My bronx niggaz, my (? ) niggaz

I see you lil hat! uh, ahaha!

Its time to take it to these niggaz right here

Yeah.. yo.. yo..

Who wanna spaz out? crunchtime, blow ya abs out

Leave you in the fetal position, witcha ass out

Ready to mash out any crew actin like

They the true facts of life, frontin through the camera lights

Despite, we hold it down regardless

I got def jam suckin me like, "i wish you was my artist"

For starters, whos the largest cat?

Get a hundred grand from my most garbage rap

Now how hard is that? everything we spit be hot

Whether its live on flex or in front of the chicken spot

Grimed out, we really live whatchu rhyme bout

See me posted up in the tunnel, with my shines out

Ice cold like alaska when I pass ya

Got girls shakin, losin they breath, as if they catchin asthma

Headed to the bar to pop some bottles

Now we in the car headed home to rock some models

All I hear in the background is gucci and prada

But Im tryna gas these bitches to screw me for nada

We the best that done it, confess you fronted

Anybody wanna test how much straps, you want it?

[hook - fat joe]

Aiyyo the gangstas back

Stop it right where you at

Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap

Tell them thug niggaz, listen to that

Gotchu feelin it hard like joe the gods really bringin it back!

[fat joe]

Im from my days and legends, since age eleven

I was the cause of dope fiends catchin aids infections

Most of us are dead, but the rest is locked

Runnin in the rec room and check me out on the box

A ceo could get optioned tryna change the channel

Its like tryna take the flesh outta the mouth of hungry cannibals

Joe the god, the flow is hard

Known for packin two dozen birds like noahs ark

Im the realest of em, make you feel the pressure

Catch you at a club, smack you up, steal ya leather

You niggaz soften me, beat you out of the mix

Tough talk, tough walk, but you cry like a bitch

I see you downin the cris, Im not hatin, Im just aggrevated

I ask myself every day, how these faggots made it?

Fuck around with the don and get decapitated

Im sick of hearin em (? ) for all the cats that made it

[hook - fat joe]

[hook 2 - armageddon]

Aiyyo the kid is back

Leave it right where you at

Let a real nigga hold that, you probably wont clap

Tell them thug niggaz, move it on back

Im feelin tight and Im hot

Ready to pop the crack right through your back

[armageddon]

Thats how kenny rocks, Im more advanced than how your learnin

Im like the force of space balance and planets while they churnin

Poppin rosary beads, piss on ya candle while its burnin

Rush ya widows crib and pop ya... bodies...

Now I know you can feel the heat I generate

Imagine when I penetrate ya stomach, and make ya bodys center bake

We can argue for days, whether its faster to drop five shots

In ya astronaut before you cloud the stash box

Splash ya brains on ya birds laps

Swerve you on the curb, crash the range, and push the front skirt back

And murk after that, blurtin curse words

Yo I popped that niggas son one before we catch the first

Ima kill any murderer, leave a nigga burpin up

Blood, chokin on chunks of his lung interior

Every verse that I spits a personal riff

I meet a ill key frontin, Im a murder you shit

Niggaz play me while distrubin the bricks

Im like the feelin of the first time they ever held a bird in they grip

Motivator thug, scrape em, shoot the bolts in his butt

Energizin em up, make em wanna open em up

Actin like I cant happen till I smack him in his adams apple

Death to rappin, I dont wanna battle

Id rather rush your studio session and shatter the booth

Clap at ya face, give the mic feedback the goof

[hook]

[hook 2]

 

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