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Murda Murda Feat. Celph Titled, Crypt the Warchild, Des Devious |
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Intro-Des Devious |
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Yeah, Des D nigga, |
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Celph Titled, Crypt the Warchild, |
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Where you at nigga? |
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Yeah, |
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Chorus-Crypt the Warchild |
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This be that murda murda, |
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I shall not speak no further, |
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After this it's hazardous, |
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My niggas pullin' burners, |
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Your weak shit don't concern us, |
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I see you gettin' nervous, |
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By accident, |
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We make more moves than niggas make on purpose. |
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Verse 1-Crypt the Warchild |
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This shit is gettin' scary, |
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Y'all niggas best be wary, |
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My team is legendary, |
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Y'all niggas secondary, |
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We stackin' cemeteries, |
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More the merry, more to bury, |
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Fuck 'em all, fuck the world, |
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Put em in a mortuary, |
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And all I know is pain, |
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I walk through coldest rain, |
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I aint supposed to change, |
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Cause I approach the game, |
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I'm tryin to coast the plane, |
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Y'all niggas know the name, |
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Warchild, Celph Titled, Des D, |
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Of course it slams, |
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We too dangerous, |
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So move away from this, |
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Niggas will waive the fifth, |
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at you courageous kids, |
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I aint no plagiarist, |
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This shit is major biz, |
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So let the truth be told, |
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When I'm sayin it. |
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Chorus |
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Verse 2-Des Devious |
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I do it for the hell of it, |
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Spit it, mix it, package it up, |
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For the sale of it, |
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Get profit for the sell of it, |
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The meanest nigga, |
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This spit is 16, |
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For props and cream |
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Close the screen, |
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You plot, I scheme, |
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Upon competition take heed, |
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And listen build with henchmen, |
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Slander your name, damage is done, |
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For this rendition, |
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Walkin' the streets, |
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Kickin' your rocks, |
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Steady grippin, |
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problem get solved, blink of an eye, |
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The fifth is kickin', |
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Listen I aint here to promote no violence, violence, |
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But that's what happen when mothafuckers can't keep it silent, |
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Bloody you up, |
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Sharp-tipped death from a thousand, |
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I grew up in housin, |
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Did a lot of wilin', |
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Robbin' niggas, that was my twist, |
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Slug it out in an instant, |
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If you was resistant i'm a predicate, |
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Never seen jail time for crimes I committed, |
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The most I see, |
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Some still don't repent it. |
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Chorus |
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Verse 3-Celph Titled |
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You'll see my face when I attack, |
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No ski-hat or a Jason mask, |
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No laser-beam gleam, |
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So you aint seein where I'm aimin at, |
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Charles Manson clone, |
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Meltin flesh like Indiana Jones, |
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It's Tampa's own, |
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Titled the Toolman, |
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Bringin' hammers home, |
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And fame it's know me here, |
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Gats will kill ya, |
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And we'll bust inside your house like Michael Jackson's Thriller, |
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Caterpillar arm slasher flick, slash a bitch, distort a thug, |
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Seperate the men from the women, like a Divorce Court judge, |
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I'm not a rapper I'm a rocker in a Grunge band, |
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I'm supa' fly, |
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One hell of a helicopter stunt man, |
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We'll make your guns jam, |
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And leave your forehead crammed, |
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With sharp swords that cut boars head ham, |
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And we're back!, |
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It's not the torture papers, |
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We got more claws and razors, |
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A lot of Rambos, Commandos and Terminators, |
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You Die Hard when I rhyme bars, |
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Roll an L with the same holy scroll that God's DNA's designed on. |
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Chorus |
