Fat Joe - Murder Rap Lyrics
[fat joe]Uh-oh, uh-oh..Lets get it over with.Yo sound boy turn the levels upLets get it over with, uh!Terror squad up in this mother*****erWhere my real niggaz at?My bronx niggaz, my (? ) niggazI see you lil hat! uh, ahaha!Its time to take it to these niggaz right hereYeah.. yo.. yo..Who wanna spaz out? crunchtime, blow ya abs outLeave you in the fetal position, witcha ass outReady to mash out any crew actin likeThey the true facts of life, frontin through the camera lightsDespite, we hold it down regardlessI got def jam suckin me like, I wish you was my artistFor starters, whos the largest cat?Get a hundred grand from my most garbage rapNow how hard is that? everything we spit be hotWhether its live on flex or in front of the chicken spotGrimed out, we really live whatchu rhyme boutSee me posted up in the tunnel, with my shines outIce cold like alaska when I pass yaGot girls shakin, losin they breath, as if they catchin asthmaHeaded to the bar to pop some bottlesNow we in the car headed home to rock some modelsAll I hear in the background is gucci and pradaBut Im tryna gas these *****es to screw me for nadaWe the best that done it, confess you frontedAnybody wanna test how much straps, you want it?[hook - fat joe]Aiyyo the gangstas backStop it right where you atLet a real nigga rock real murderer rapTell them thug niggaz, listen to thatGotchu feelin it hard like joe the gods really bringin it back![fat joe]Im from my days and legends, since age elevenI was the cause of dope fiends catchin aids infectionsMost of us are dead, but the rest is lockedRunnin in the rec room and check me out on the boxA ceo could get optioned tryna change the channelIts like tryna take the flesh outta the mouth of hungry cannibalsJoe the god, the flow is hardKnown for packin two dozen birds like noahs arkIm the realest of em, make you feel the pressureCatch you at a club, smack you up, steal ya leatherYou niggaz soften me, beat you out of the mixTough talk, tough walk, but you cry like a *****I see you downin the cris, Im not hatin, Im just aggrevatedI ask myself every day, how these faggots made it?***** around with the don and get decapitatedIm sick of hearin em (? ) for all the cats that made it[hook - fat joe][hook 2 - armageddon]Aiyyo the kid is backLeave it right where you atLet a real nigga hold that, you probably wont clapTell them thug niggaz, move it on backIm feelin tight and Im hotReady to pop the crack right through your back[armageddon]Thats how kenny rocks, Im more advanced than how your learninIm like the force of space balance and planets while they churninPoppin rosary beads, piss on ya candle while its burninRush ya widows crib and pop ya... bodies...Now I know you can feel the heat I generateImagine when I penetrate ya stomach, and make ya bodys center bakeWe can argue for days, whether its faster to drop five shotsIn ya astronaut before you cloud the stash boxSplash ya brains on ya birds lapsSwerve you on the curb, crash the range, and push the front skirt backAnd murk after that, blurtin curse wordsYo I popped that niggas son one before we catch the firstIma kill any murderer, leave a nigga burpin upBlood, chokin on chunks of his lung interiorEvery verse that I spits a personal riffI meet a ill key frontin, Im a murder you shitNiggaz play me while distrubin the bricksIm like the feelin of the first time they ever held a bird in they gripMotivator thug, scrape em, shoot the bolts in his buttEnergizin em up, make em wanna open em upActin like I cant happen till I smack him in his adams appleDeath to rappin, I dont wanna battleId rather rush your studio session and shatter the boothClap at ya face, give the mic feedback the goof[hook][hook 2]
