Ja Rule

[Tah Murdah]
We about money and murda
The fuck y'all want to do
Either pass that paper
Or we gonna have to kill you
It's like that nigga
Don't question why
Cuz when it's murda motherfucker
Everybody gotta dieDie motherfucker die
Die motherfucker die
Die motherfucker die
Die motherfucker die[Tah Murdah]
Money ain’t never been nothing
I hit the block if this shit get ugly
And it ain’t never been in my heart to let niggas thug me
Hit the dealer and cop a drop if the eyes is buggy
And pull up in front of the spot cause the mommies love me
(It’s gangsta) yeah and ain’t no nigga gone match me
Stocky, chubby nigga voice real raspy
I see you real flashy "but that ain’t gone last nigga"
Pop fire off shots "and that’s your ass nigga"
It’s war now that’s why I keep the four with long nozzle
Six-hundred bad bitch on it holding down the throttle
And fuck that beef shit cause some beef won’t die
And some niggas will say they gangsta but they won’t ride
And while it’s hard for you to decide I’ll let it fly
Forty shots hit your ride up hit the tropics and hide up
Under palm tree’s to white sand
Everything is a price man
You snipe when bullets are piping hot
When it’s your flesh it begin warming you
Now die motherfucker die
Cuz I’m tired of warning you[Black Child]
Yeah we hear now, die motherfucker
Don’t be scared now, die motherfucker
Black Child I’m off parole it’s murda now
In a hood near you about to burn it down
Word to God it feels like I’m from every hood
Cuz when you ghetto your ghetto with gats you good
Sell cracks if you could bust your gat when you should
It’s for my blacks from the bricks back to Inglewood
We eat together nigga fuck the crossroads
In this world my flow is another lost soul
My shit sounds like shots from a four pound
For these bitch clowns it’s war now
It’s all about paper that’s my issue
Fuck peace you can have a piece of the pistol[Chorus x2: Ja Rule]
Everybody gonna die but nobody want dead
Die motherfucker die, it’s your life
Everybody wanna live, but they wanna live scared
Die motherfucker Die, that’s your life [Ja Rule]
Niggas know the truth
Rule raises the roof
Cuz I pop more shots than Abdul-Rauf
And when the concludes I bring closure to the situ
Come thru squeeze eight out the stolen black pinto
Niggas know my mental kill or be killed head for the hills
But don’t never slide down it if you to high ground it
(puff, puff) uhhh! Is how it sounded two shots thru and silent
And one nigga stripped of his talents
New fucking Yiddy City the sex and violence
Where first time offenders get floated to the island
And one time give a nigga one time
Breathe wrong and a nigga have a blown mind
I blow lines like an addict
Bust guns erratic shine blind like carats
Rules above average me and this music make a marriage
So I thee wed till I’m either jailed or dead motherfuckers
Feel me niggas[Black Child]
Word to God
Feel us nigga
We here, again
It's Murda[Chorus x2]

compositores: Jeffrey Atkins, Ramel Gill, TIHEEM CROCKER, Tyrone Fyffe