Lyrics

(This is brought to you by Kemet Entertainment Records)
Mi come fi Murda pussy'ole in 'ere tonight
Raasclaat dem tings'dem I'ma gonna deal with
Them can't test Klashnekoff, mi say dem can't Klashnekoff
Man fi get Murda in 'ere tonight
Pussy'oles fi dead
(Brrrrrr!) Tell them now, rasta!
What? K, K-Lash your rasclat Neckoff
I'll split you in half like a gun blast from Lennox (Lennox!)
Hotter than flammable rocks
From the manor when man are animal nyammin you like fox
Experts slosh, we specialize in handlin' cop
With man's hatching and planning plots looking to jam in your spot
But their stamina's not up to par
Get ripped apart like red Rizla to raas, (Raasclaat!)
This Terra Firm 'dargart' state of the art
But tell them jankrows to stay in their yard
Or get stabbed with a stake to the heart
I'm tryna walk a straight path but d'y'know say it's hard
Sick thoughts of flinging on mask and killing your claat
Keep runnin' through the back of my head like old dance steps
Get dropped on your doorstep like Dando
Many man ran prang 'cause my nine flow's badder than Taliban still ban shows
Spit flows over bhangra
Spit so cold make you shook out like it was SOCA
Terra Firma take over
Take you through the mind state of a tortured soldier
Who tells tales of unspeakable horror with lyrics lethal like borer
Leave you leaking on the floor, star
That's why I don't watch no talk, I read auras
And books written by forbidden government authors
Infiltrate your border like ITN reporters then return with the slaughter
Captured on camcorder, I'm trapped in a damn corner
Chatting to Pandora 'bout boxing a man for her
But she don't know me, Klashnekoff
That black cunt from out of Stokey
Banana boat mango munching monkey kick off your door like Jumanji
Dash you off the 28th floor like it was bungee ah wah di bloodcleet (Di bloodcleet)
It's Murda, when man test the Terra Firma
It's Murda, brere's getting buried in suburbia
It's Murda, man's shotting rock to make a' earner
It's Murda, Murda, Murda, Murda
It's Murda, them man can't test the Terra Firma
It's Murda, they'll find your body buried in suburbia
Murda, pride take man for fucking with Tina Turner
It's Murda, Murda, Murda, Murda
I'm not ready to die but ever ready for bury a guy
They're not ready for I, I can see the fear in their eye
Scared of the rhymes that ricochet and tear them insides
Some fear for their lives, prepare and try to stare in my eyes
Wife cry bucket of tears, when the brere get iced but that's life
It's all live, ride rhythms like a dive
Spit cyanide saliv' and blind your left eye
Subliminal crime, snipe you in the back of your mind
With killer quotes and one lines that cuts throats like knives
Baffle the fives, can't fathom how the fuck did he die
One tux and a tie with 21 bucks to the sky
Asking me why a brethren is deeper than I
This piece by my side lookin' to eat a piece of the pie
So come in peace or draw your piece or please reach for the sky
My ether is nine, like nine millimetres times nine
Millimetres times nine millimetres from your spine
So take time my rhymes take life like TEC-9's
And we take wives from guys who flex their chest size
Tell 'em again
Let me tell you, blood
It's Murda, when man test the Terra Firma
It's Murda, brere's getting buried in suburbia
It's Murda, man's shotting rock to make a' earner
It's Murda, Murda, Murda, Murda
It's Murda, them man can't test the Terra Firma
It's Murda, they'll find your body buried in suburbia
Murda, pride take man for fucking with Tina Turner
It's Murda, Murda, Murda, Murda
Badder the spanner banner with a black bandana
Darren-D the dan dapper, wrap the trees like strappa!
Stab the beat with a dagger, the Hackney hack attacker
Shabby like shabba shabby like Shaggy verse just shut up
In this sick, sick city situations get butters
Man switch like Baracas, come swingin' like McGuigan
With a barrage of punches The spit boxin' champion who spark man unconscious and knock out their dentures
See the Drugs Don't Work, they just make you worse
Man smoke a little merch and feel say he can't get hurt; that's absurd
You'll get sliced up and served like hors d'oeuvres
Buried six feet deep like sword in the dirt
While you frauds shot work from the back of your Mercs
I reverse the hearse, stick 'em in the back of the boot
And baffle you fools, you cunts can't 'ackle this yout
Or tackle my crew, get beaten 'til you're blacker than blue
While I'm strapping a zoot you on the floor catching a boot
Looking to catch a blag blood but that's a Catch-22
And you done know the crew
It's Murda, when man test the Terra Firma
It's Murda, brere's getting buried in suburbia
It's Murda, man's shotting rock to make a' earner
It's Murda, Murda, Murda, Murda
It's Murda, them man can't test the Terra Firma
It's Murda, they'll find your body buried in suburbia
Murda, pride take man for fucking with Tina Turner
It's Murda, Murda, Murda, Murda
Written by: Darren Kandler, Harry Curren
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