The Murderers (feat. Black Child & Caddillac Tah) [Explicit]

Word to God

Y'all know who the fuck this is?

You know we would kidnap yo kids

You know what the fuck we do

Murder bitch **** like you

For real, all the time, any place, anywhere

Y'all **** could get it

Act like y'all don't know

In the world that's ice cold, blacks die slowly

Cats snatch Rollies, gats'll leave you holy

My mama always told me the streets will slow me down

Daddy never showed me how heat'll hold me down

So now I rob and steal, spit shit you feel, wit' 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 a'ight

And she was right, and that's 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 gon' do?

Hit the streets and hustle, pick up the heat and bust ya

I'm tryin' to eat like Russel, murder is my hustle

You keep chasin' yesterday, you gon' miss tomorrow

It's murder, motherfucker, we don't beg or borrow

We take shit, fuck you and yo fake bitch

When the eights spit, you can feel the hatred, taste it

You high right now, you ain't ready to die right now

The four five will calm you down, you under trauma now

It's drama how a chil' will shut shit down

Killin' **** for the fuck of it, I get you touched for chips

Fuck that shit, and fuck the whips, and fuck you bitch

You can just suck my dick

If you chasin' yesterday, you gon' miss tomorrow

It's murder, motherfucker, we don't beg or borrow

We take shit, fuck you and yo fake bitch

When the eights spit, you can feel the hatred, taste it

It's yo blood when we show blood, we murderers (Murderers)

We throw slugs, we hustlers (Hustlers), we sell drugs

And tell thugs live it up till yo time stops

Yo I don't give a fuck if y'all **** hate me

Drop bodies off where the lakes be

But lately, been hittin' cribs and safes where the cake be

I take three to the vest for the love of the dollas and

Put that hot shit through you and watch you holla, holla

The same **** that I ball with Imma brawl wit

Imma tank runnin' in banks and takin' all of it

Player, we flawless, wit nothin' to lose, and

Guns buttin' and bruisin', ****, y'all can't live

Funny shit about it, **** wanna hit me, forget 'bout it

Thug shit, I'm livin', y'all **** just spit about it

I'm robbin' and stompin' **** two-thirds of my life

The other third spent sittin' on curbs chasin' them birds

If you ever get the urge to come try for test

Then only one day you get numb and lied to rest

It's murder, the only code to the ghetto

It's murder, **** hand me the Bessel

And dance with the devil, guns rapidly spit

Gangsta shit, attractin' yo bitch, gettin' head, lean back in the shit

I mastered the chips, **** I'm tryna tell you

You holdin' hammers and nails

We have you where the dogs couldn't smell you

If you chasin' yesterday, you gon' miss tomorrow

It's murder, motherfucker, we don't beg or borrow

We take shit, fuck you and yo fake bitch

When the eights spit, you can feel the hatred, taste it

It's yo blood when we show blood, we murderers (Murderers)

We throw slugs, we hustlers (Hustlers), we sell drugs

And tell thugs live it up till yo time stops

Ja's a motherfuckin' problem

Any **** think not, Imma pop 'em

Put the lean on **** the minute I spot 'em

Who gettin' it, I got 'em ****

And gonna guide 'em to the cross in da roads, show 'em how those guns blow

Imma degenerate **** addicted to hydro, swtichin' four lanes

Top down wit my eyes closed, got a death wish

Money, drugs and murderer shit

What you want wit' this? We'll kidnap yo kids

And clap up yo crib, it's the murderers

Who you know with guns that kill shit just because

We dem hot ****

Sell mo' records than Rock ****

Imma lock it down for six months and shock ****

What's my name?

J to A R U L E with them hoes get between more sheets than Isley

You can't deny me, I'm the motherfuckin' one

Druggin' bitches like Heron

The dog be the Rule

If you hot, get by selling your jewels to cop a Benz

And twenty inch chrome your shoes

I got nothin' to lose but everything to live for

Thoroughbreds demand the supply the raw

I put my smash down from NY to Chi-Town

Incorporated Murder spittin' in rounds

You don't wanna hear how it sounds when we cock them flames

It's murder, and ain't shit gon' change ****