The Murderers - Ja Rule

Black Child: 

Word to God 
Ya know who the fuck this is? 
Ya know we would kidnap yo kids? 
Ya know what the fuck we do? 
Murda bitch niggaz like you 
For real all the time 
Any place any where 
Ya'll niggaz can get it 
Act like ya'll don't know 

In the world thats ice cold 
Blacks die slowly 
Cats snag groupies 
Gats and leave you lonely 
My mama always told me 
The streets will slow you down 
Daddy neva showed me 
How heat will hold me down 
So now, I rob and steal 
The shit you fill 
With a clique that kills 
Yeah, my shit that real 
I hustled hard all my life 
Ran the streets all night 
My wife always said everything 
Was gonna be aiight 
She was right 
And thats the one reason 
Why I love her 
But everything she said 
Went in one ear and out the other 
Word to Mother 
Look at it from a thug point of view 
When the kids need clothes 
What a thug gonna do? 
Hit the streets and hustle 
Or pick up the heat and bust you 
I'm tryin to eat like Russell 
Murda is my hustle 
you keep chasin yesterday 
You gonna miss tomorrow 
Its murda motherfucka 
We don't bang or rob 
We take shit 
Fuck you and yo fake bitch 
When the eight spit 
You can feel the hatred 
Taste it 
You high right now 
You aint ready to die right now 
Before five we'll calm you down 
You in the charmer now 
It's drama how 
A child will shut shit down 
Killin niggaz for the fuck of it 
I'll get you touched for chips 
Fuck that shit and fuck yo wips 
Fuck you bitch you can just suck my dick 

Chorus: 

If you keep chasin yesterday 
You gonna miss tomorrow 
Its murda motherfucka 
We don't bang or rob 
We take shit 
Fuck you and yo fake bitch 
When the eight spit 
You can feel the hatred 
Taste it 
Its your blood 
When we show love 
We murderers ( murderers ) 
We throw slugs 
We hustlers ( hustlers ) 
We sell drugs 
And tell thugs livin it up 
That there times up 

Tah Murdah: 

Yo, Yo 
I dont give a fuck if you niggaz hate me 
I drop bodies off where the lakes be 
But lately, I've been hittin cribs be safe where the cake be 
I take three to the feds for the love of the dollars 
And put that hot shit through you and watch you Holla, Holla 
The same niggaz I roll wit I'ma brawl wit 
Hold my tanks 
Run in the bank, and take it all with 
Playa we flawless 
Wit nothin to loose 
Gun buttin and bruisin 
Niggaz ya'll cant live 
Funny shit about it 
Niggaz wanna hit me 
Forget about it 
Thug-shit I'm livin 
Ya'll niggaz spit about it 
I rob and extort niggaz 
Two-thirds of my life 
The other third has been 
Swingin on cars 
Chasin the birds 
If you ever get the urge to come 
Try for test 
All in one day you'll get none 
And lied to rest 
It's Murda 
The only code of the ghetto 
It's Murda 
Nigga hand me the bezzle 
And dance with the devil 
Guns gradually spit 
Gangsta shit 
Attractin your bitch 
Gettin head leaned back in the six 
I master the chips 
Nigga I'm tryin to tell you 
You holdin hammers and nail you 
Have you were the dogs couldn't smell you 

Chorus: 

If you keep chasin yesterday 
You gonna miss tommorrow 
Its murda motherfucka 
We don't bang or rob 
We take shit 
Fuck you and yo fake bitch 
When the eight spit 
You can feel the hatred 
Taste it 
Its your blood 
When we show love 
We murderers ( murderers ) 
We throw slugs 
We hustlers ( hustlers ) 
We sell drugs 
And tell thugs livin it up 
That there times up 

Ja Rule: 

Ja's the motherfuckin problem 
Any nigga think not 
I'ma pop 'em 
Put the lid on niggaz 
Demand that I spot 'em 
Who gettin it? I got 'em nigga 
And go got 'em to the cross in the roads 
Show them how the guns blow 
I'm a degenerate nigga 
Addicted to hydro 
Pushin four lanes 
Top down with my eyes closed 
Got a death wish 
Money, drugs, and murderin shit 
What you want with this? 
We'll kidnap yo kids 
Clap up yo cribs 
It's the Murderers 
What you know that does 
That kill shit , just because? 
We them hot niggas 
Sell more records then roc niggas 
I'ma lock it down for six months 
And shock niggas 
Whats my name? 
J to A, the R-U-L-E 
With them hoes 
That get through more sheets then 
I's lay, you can't deny me 
I'm the motherfuckin one 
Drugs and bitches, like Heron 
The don be the rule 
If you hot get priced on your jewels 
Cop a benz, and 20 inch chrome yo shoes 
I got nothin to loose 
But everything to live for 
Thoroughbred's the man 
That supply the raw 
I put my smack down 
>From N-Y to Chi-town 
Incorporated 
Murder spittin them rounds 
You don't wanna hear how we sound 
We cop the flame 
It's Murda 
And shit gonna change 
Niggaz... 

Uh, uh 
Motherfuckas, understand that 
Uh, uh 
We live or die for this here 
Nigga it's MURDA!! 
Motha fucka 
Give it to 'em 
We'll like that 
All my murderers!! 
My dog 
Fuck the world 
Ya heard 
Murder Inc. niggaz