Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Murder Inc.
Murder Inc.
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tyrone Fyffe
Tyrone Fyffe
Composer
JAY-Z
JAY-Z
Composer
DMX
DMX
Composer
Ja Rule
Ja Rule
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tyrone Fyffe
Tyrone Fyffe
Producer
Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro
Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
**** is dead, dead I tell you
Can't be serious
What you think is gonna happen
With three of the illest **** together
Street music and so forth on one track, huh?
Can't be serious
It's murda, ****, huh, it's murda
[Verse 2]
Mothafucka's wanna kill me, but don't got the heart
To look me in the eyes with the nine and spark
'Cause whether you for or against this
When I spit with murderous intentions
Everybody goes, everybody knows
The weapons they possess, they not for show
And you put dresses on your weapons
When you walk out the door
[Verse 3]
See once I flash motherfuckers better do the one shot dash
Or be one shot ass
Jay to the A Y, to the drive by to your hood
Screamin' bye-bye to ya, why would ya fuck with me
Knowing I put ya six feet deep, and them **** could go wit'cha
Cock the hot pistol, then pop the hot Cristal
And I promise you only one thing, to not miss you
Jay-Hova, know that God has served ya
'Cause dead or alive, when I arrive it's murda
[Verse 4]
Shit, I hope y'all **** know to lay low now
'Cause thou shall perish if thou don't bow down
'Cause I hit 'em on sight, it's dark dim the lights
You shot twice God bless, this the night
That a lot of **** fear comin' for their life
And you dead right, be in hell lookin' for ice
Fuckin' with Ja, you bitch **** talkin' shit
All on my dick you broke **** makin' me rich
[Verse 5]
You gonna blaze me, 'cause you high ripped off the henna rock
Flow semi-hit, handling me you're not
Check my forte, not even on a bad day you beat this
Rather beat your dick or your bitch
My flow be the sick shit, gravely ill
**** dyin' 'cause they know I spit like iron
Nothing but bark flyin', leavin' holes and mice, hell and night
Go together like heaven and light
**** ain't seein' my plight, it's aight
[Verse 6]
I let the world know I shine like ice
I bet it all I can throw a hard four in the dice
'Cause I'm a gambling man, you should gamble
With a gat in your hand, spin the barrel, and put it to your head
'Cause we don't dance no more, all we do is cock and spit
Dedicated to giving y'all nothin' but thug shit
Think we playing, you'll undoubtedly fall further
Fuckin' with I.N.C. is murda
[Verse 7]
I'm a cruddy ****, goin' up raw-dog in dirty bitches
And if I get burnt, I'm givin' that shit to thirty bitches
You say you know a **** like me, guess again papi
I might smile up in your face, but I ain't your friend, papi
Jump out the fifteen hundred like runnin'
**** don't want it, get it, done it, when I'm blunted
However it went down, I made it happen, made it scrappin'
I made it fussin', bustin' I made it cappin'
[Verse 8]
And letting off wasn't nothin' new to a ****
Something to do, ****, 'cause you's a fool, ****
I know your type, you hype, all up off that fake shit
You can't understand why a man would have to take shit
Or steal shit, but this is that real shit
**** kill shit, peel shit
I hit you in your head you won't feel shit
[Verse 9]
Let the dogs loose on a ****'s ass
Find out if the ****'s faster than the trigger blast
A fuckin' snake, in the truest form, knowin' damn well
That what I do is wrong, plus still I do it strong
**** is makin' movies
So I gots to stop production, I need a block to function
And maybe I'll stop destructin', the blocks is not for frontin'
Let me get that, shorty, 'cause you don't need that shorty
You don't know what to do with that, shorty
[Verse 10]
You might as well hit this forty, before you hit the floor
Another twenty-four, what you want, money, more?
Them **** did it raw, with no condom
You find 'em, sayin'  I'm sorry for what I did before I blind him
Get the flame out the four-fifth
And there ain't gonna be no more riff
Dog, you want a floss tiff, could have made it to the door if
Bullets traveled a lot slower, and you ran a lot faster
But they don't, and you can't, so don't think about after
'Cause tomorrow ain't comin', so stop runnin'
'Cause you gonna die like a sucker
Murda, mothafucka
[Verse 11]
Uh, where my motherfucking dogs at, uh, uh
My **** Jigga, my dog Ja, Irv Gotti, Rough Riders, Def Jam
Where my dogs at? Top fight, uh, where my dogs at?
Hold me down, baby, hold me down, baby, hold me down, baby
Boomer, one love, ****
Murda, mothafucka
Written by: DMX, JAY-Z, Ja Rule, Tyrone Fyffe
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