Murda I Wrote

Lyrics

[Intro: Mac Dre] Ha, ha ha, come on Ha ha ha ha, ya I'm retchy, I'm retchy, boy Let's do it, follow me now Let's do it, follow me now, ha ha We got the boy, the boy Thizzy Marley in the building Listen, listen [Verse: Mac Dre] Yeah, man, we be jammin' Come through in the old school slammin' In my trunk, is a cannon If it's funk I leave no man standin' Stalk the streets of the 'sco like Reggie Hammond Go strong to the hole like Ed O'Bannon Hennessy with the lemon, just me and some women Big butts stretch the fuck out they jeans and they denim I always get my mackin' on; yes, I keep it crackin', holmes When it's funk, I'm crackin' domes; back up then I'm smashin' home [Chorus: Rydah J. Klyde] Yo, yo, they say they love you 'cause they feel you, yo Or maybe 'cause they hear my record on the radio Yo, yo, but if they ever tried to play me though I stop the music, grab my tool and let it go Oh no, this ain't a love song, it's murder that I wrote This ain't a love song, it's murder that I wro-o-ote This ain't a love song, it's murder that I wrote This ain't a love song, it's murder that I wro-o-ote [Verse 2: J. Diggs] These bloodclaat niggas smoke weed in a cigar Always on the road, keep what I need off in me cizar Me send you off in E.R., you retched little moist cunt Fuck you off nice over ice and smoke another blunt Y'all know me, rude boy, I do it, boy Especially on that fluid, guaranteed to fuck your mood, boy Smith & Wess' mag, M9 in E-Class Every time you see me you see three bad beetchas Got connections with the coke and smoke and grow weed Got two old schools and they both on gold D's That's the truth for real, player, know what hoes need Leave bloodclaats leaking like a fuckin' nose bleed [Chorus: Rydah J. Klyde] Yo, yo, they say they love you 'cause they feel you, yo Or maybe 'cause they hear my record on the radio Yo, yo, but if they ever tried to play me though I stop the music, grab my tool and let it go Oh no, this ain't a love song, it's murder that I wrote This ain't a love song, it's murder that I wro-o-ote This ain't a love song, it's murder that I wrote This ain't a love song, it's murder that I wro-o-ote [Verse 3: Mac Mall] Selectah, one more time Informants speak on Mister Mallennium, it's gonna be murder, oh oy The Don Dada familiar with fully choppas off ya and then we get further, D-boys Crooked cop, bad mens, low lifes and ruffians If I hold the rocket launcher like Crestside is Pakistan, boy One love for nobody, me got cuddies, fuck a friend And fuck a bitch, I kick her in the ass with Size 12 Timberlands Understand, like King Kong when me lay down me Mac cannon And at the rate my mafia going, might see me on CNN For puttin' fire on poor Babylon, don't let no devils win And don't let no suckers play me, fully kill you where you stand [Chorus: Rydah J. Klyde] Yo, yo, they say they love you 'cause they feel you, yo Or maybe 'cause they hear my record on the radio Yo, yo, but if they ever tried to play me though I stop the music, grab my tool and let it go Oh no, this ain't a love song, it's murder that I wrote This ain't a love song, it's murder that I wro-o-ote This ain't a love song, it's murder that I wrote This ain't a love song, it's murder that I wro-o-ote