Murder That He Ritt

Lyrics

[Verse 1] I don't know judo But, down with you know Strapped with two Glocks Gone off some pruno (gone off some pruno) Headed for the house party on the southside Four deep in a ragtop six five Hella bitches (hella bitches) Hanging out the window Killer Cali style from foes that eight fifty-fizzle Hoes don't stack 'Cause niggas been ballin' crack since the mac (since the mac) Packin' they gat and won't think twice to bust a cap (buck) Sportin' a brim like, Freddy, Krueger Some drinkin' heavy shooters (shooters) All strapped down with two Rugers (with two rugers) I pull over hit the juice on my ride I got front and back and side to side In murder that he writ [Hook] (The murder show) The murder that he writ (The murder show) In the murder that he writ [Verse 2] I'm a born soldier to these hell made streets In my dreams when my back is turned somebody's murderin' me (Uhh) I'm waking up in cold sweat Every little noise, I'm hoppin' out the bed reachin' for my tec (tec) And I'm on the streets I'm very high on paranoia Looking for the neighborhood destroyas I'd rather murder than be dead confused Celebratin' my birthday in the news (uhh) I drop tears for my dead homies And did years tryna get my money And pack a tec for you phonies And did mines on my only Turnin' motherfuckers into rest in peace homies [Hook] [Verse 3] (Murder) See, I'm a G from the block and when there's funk it's on (it's on) I'll be the nigga with a strap to your homies dome Headbuttin' Crushing them bones When that HK, Buck 'em (Buck Buck Buck Buck) Sittin' that ass down Retaliatin' be some out of state negroes (negroes) Decapitate and leavin' afros in steel toes (steel toes) Some more, hard, core, killers (killers) Ballin' dope dealers (dope dealers) Klu Klux [?] The real deal'ah Bailin' your hood like thrillah You're either killa, or vacator get killed by the killa Now what do you prefer? It's best that you disperse Or be the next verse [Hook] [Verse 4] Now here come' the big gangster Hoppin' out the regal Pants saggin', Fat pockets eagle (fat pockets) Fifty Cali style Stackin' up G's by the pound Sippin' amaretto (amaretto) Packin' a throwaway beretta And been in it to win it since the beginnin' So when I pose took the slugs with my .44 leaving' niggas froze It's fuck you ho's in the mind of a psycho Kickin' off rides when the lights go I did my time on the cell block for sellin' rocks I'd rather let the cops shell shock then get popped So next time I'll protect mine with my tec-9 Havin' wreck time They can't check mine [Hook] [Outro] 187 killer