These faggot ass niggas
Eyo Buck, word to mother
Yeah they had young Malcom silenced too long baby!
They can't fucking hold me down nigga,
What the fuck these niggas thought
It's the I.N.C nigga, it's murder
M.I.B nigga
Murder I.N.C bosses... Mother fucker
Ja Rule huh
Eyo Buck turn this shit up in my mother fucking headphones, turn me up niggas
Fuck these faggots haha
This real nigga
Eyo word to mother,
Murder Inc. niggas

How many niggas hold they heat like Rule?
Sidearm, barrel to mouth to blow your head out through the south,
And let 'Lil J get to airin' you out,
And if theres any change left I toss ya on down to the west,
N let (westside) the road ride down on ya,
California, love is what you crave so your grave it gon' read,
Hear lied fifty who snitched on many, that half a dollar, that nickel, them dimes and died like a penny,
And Murder Inc. will send their deepest condolences and sympathies to Aftermath, to Shady, Interscope and Jimmy Iovine,
You know ya team they really some pee-ons, getting peed on n leaked on.
I'm talking about faggot ass gay Dre Young!
And Suge told me bout how you used to take transvestites home an occasionaly wear thongs,
No wonder feminem be cross dressing in pumps and tight 'lil dresses,
My pumps they leave big messes,
And i know the 'Truth Hurts' when i bus records,
Battle of the sexes, is that a woman or a man?
I really don't care to stand but Fifty you gon' get shot again,
By the M-U-R-D-E-R Inc
I'm the rapper that sings, totes guns and blades,
And these Fed's can't discuss 'em
Cos while he's violating using his past troubles and crying bitch to Russell like,
'They shootin'... Ah makes ya shook n got Bus rhyming the same old hook.
'They shootin'... I aint shoot up ya land
I'd put you in the coroner van
Like my nigga J *mwah*
The Vanguish will be the ghetto car when I clap at ya garage,
And em, what's the du-rag for?
You never gonna have braids
You never know black pain... but you can become the first white rapper slain.
Just get your money man,
The Inc is running things
Hideout with loose change
And you nigga Ima send you to mommy,
With strict orders from Gotti to hide the body,
And Dre your days coming too, cos I got a team of misfits thats quiet and handle they buisness, cause...
'I'm shootin'... at all y'all niggas
N 'Lil Mo you just one of them bitches,
Who ain't had a hot song in how long? Never?
You better off with a dick in your mouth,
Shut up!
Em ya claim your mothers a crackhead and Kims a known slut so what's Hallie gon be when she grows up?

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