It’s Murda (Freestyle) – Ja Rule (feat. Hussein Fatal)
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It’s Murda (Ha-ha-ha) It’s Murda We back up in this motherfucker! It’s Murda Y’all know who we be (Yeah, ayo don’t let me catch you runnin’ from the back of BET either, nigga) R.U.L.E. I.N.C. My nigga Fatal on the motherfuckin’ ones and twos Holla back, you bitch ass niggas
Yo, cock sucker, I get squat and post and cocked the nina In the five series beamer, dump and lean ya I fell off on a misdemeanor, ride red over black madina’s Take crazy for genius, hated like Jesus Christ My weakness have always been bad bitches And new bills with krisis, my thesis more than extraordinary And that nigga that got shot nine times can tell ya that I don’t give a fuck I don’t give a fuck, God may I ask yo permission to take his life This is a man be “I” N-C to R-U-L-E extraordinary, one for the ages When then sawed off with the front of them gauges To engage in combat To send you and fem where yo moms at Motherfucker you hear that And I ain’t talking about them heaven from skies I’m talkin’ about them fire from nines Or maybe the fifty cal cause you like five-oh Or maybe somewhere in Cal where you like to lay low You bitch made, and I heard about that bitch You be slaying laying up with, some where off of Sunset Y’all haven’t heard yet that nigga change is loose And I got proof, get it? “I got Proof” Yo vest is no use when we cock and flame It’s Murda, (yeah) Murda Incorporated (ha ha)
It’s Murda (yeah) Hussein Fatal nigga (It’s Murda) Motherfuckers Rule these niggas crazy, reppin’ him without me “A.I.” ain’t in the click, believe they won’t win without me Yo, I’m small li’l homies, frail but bold Went from base to some bullshit like “Jalen Rose” Got my blind D-O-G’s readin’ Brail and coats Keep the heat in the winter I can’t tell it’s cold Clean my set, pieced out flame the TEC Throw shots out niggas catch like “Wayne Cherbet” Son of a gangster, talk dirty son I’m a bang ya I’m the truth with the ox, keep gum on the banger Hussein, the only reason hoes chase the thugs Nigga blade part two I got the taste for blood Log on Fatal.com, see fatal drop bombs More militant minded then y’all faded with ‘Pac rhymes Clutching the stick beam, suckin’ the stick green Out the window or the sunroof, buckin’ the sixteen You ain’t a gangster Em, this is gangster shit And “50” you ain’t nothin’ but a gangster bitch “Pac” would have never did no song with no wanksta snitch He confusin’ ya’ll he ain’t the shit We sex, money and murder you niggas Ain’t no playin’ around with this rap shit Banana clip, mack’s spit bodies rap up in plastic This the city where the skinny niggas die (no) You heard my dogs this is the city where the skinny niggas ride nigga
Plat Hussein the don Believe we got this shit poppin’ in this motherfucker Rule it’s good And we into the motherfuckin’ club you punk niggas walking out Brick city, Rule, Rap- a lot- mafia! Murda! Yound D, Merc, Exsaless These niggas ain’t ready for this gangster shit right here We been doing this shit for a long time Ya’ll niggas got the streets confused nigga We been on this gangster thug shit Bitch ass niggas you know what it is Every time we touch the motherfucking booth nigga It’s gonna be fire, fire on you niggas asses Niggas better gracefully bow the fuck out nigga Hussein Fatal nigga, Rap-a lot-mafia, nigga M.I.B. nigga, murder inc bosses Rule we here baby, brick city jerses mafia Yeah Shadow let’s get it