Loose Change – Ja Rule

These faggot ass niggas
Ayo Buck, word to mother
Yo, they had young Malcolm 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 Inc. Bosses, motherfuckers
Ja Rule, ha ha
Ayo Buck
Turn this shit up in my motherfucking headphones
Turn me up niggas
Fuck these faggots, ha ha
It’s real nigga, yeah
It’s real nigga (ayo, word to mother)
(Fuck you Loose Change, you faggot)
Yeah, (Feminem I’ma slap the shit out you bitch)
Murder Inc., niggas

How many niggas hold they heat like Rule
Sidearm, barrel in mouth to blow your head out to the south
And let little J get to airing you out
And if there’s any change left
I toss you on down to the west
And let (west side) the road ride down on ya
California Love is what you crave, so on you grave
It’s gonna read: “Here lie 50, who snitched on many
That half a dollar, that nickel, them dimes, and died like penny”
And Murder Inc. will send they deepest condolences and sympathies
To Aftermath and Shady, Interscope and Jimmy Iovine
Ya know your team they really some peons
Getting peed on and linked on
I’m talkin’ about faggot ass gay Dre Young
And Suge told me all about how you used to take transvestites home
And occasionally wear thongs
No wonder Feminem be cross dressin’ in pumps and tight little dresses
My pumps they leave big messes
And I know the Truth Hurts when I bust reckless
Battle of the sexes, is that a woman or a man?
I really don’t care to stand, but 50 you gon’ get shot again
By the M-U-R-E-D-R Inc
I’m the rapper that sings, totes guns and blings
And these Fed’s can’t discuss ’em
‘Cause Lighty’s “Violating” us, usin’ his powder puff
(Fuck you man) cryin’ bitch to Russell like:

They shootin’, ah Chris ya shook
And got Bus’ rhymin’ the same old hook
Like, they shootin’, I ain’t shoot up ya Land
I oughta put ya in the coroner van
Like my nigga J-muah!
The dandruff Vanquish should be the get away car
When I clap at your broads
And Em, what’s the doo-rag for?
You never gon’ have waves, you’ll never know black pain
But you could become the first white rapper slain
Just get yo’ money, man
The Inc. is runnin’ thangs, hideout with Loose Change
And you nigga, I’ma send you to mommy
With strict orders from Gotti to hide the body
And Dre, your day’s comin’ too, ’cause I got a team of misfits
That squat and handle they business
‘Cause, I’m shootin’, at all y’all niggas
And Lil Mo, you just one of them bitches
That ain’t had a hot song in how long, never
Your better off with a dick in your mouth, just shut up
Em, you claim your mother’s a crackhead
And Kim is a known slut
So what’s Hailie gon’ be when she grows up?

Murder! Y’all know what it is
Murder! Y’all know what it be
Murder! Y’all know what it is
Murder! I-N-C