Murda Murda - Album Version (Explicit) Lyrics
| Song | Murda Murda - Album Version (Explicit) |
| Artist | Memphis Bleek |
| Artist | Beanie Sigel |
| Artist | Jay-Z |
| Album | M.A.D.E. |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Carter, Cox, Grant, Smith | |
| Chilly chill | |
| It's gangsta, turn the music up, uh, ch'eah | |
| Yeah, we back on that gangsta, gangsta shit | |
| Shit, they just wanna play the motherfuckin' game | |
| We don't give a fuck but | |
| Swizz'll lit up somethin' on you niggas | |
| Chilly chill, let's go | |
| I'm from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Yeah, from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| I feel like a felon with two strikes, mad bullshit in this life | |
| I done seen everythin' but | |
| Christ, luckily | |
| I'm just off the basement | |
| You niggas just bullshittin' with bars | |
| The boys you got just tryin' my patience | |
| Like, I don't carry around banana clips like groceries | |
| With a presence that make 'em don't wanna get 'em close to me | |
| Talk about we suppose to be brothers | |
| Don't make me laugh, motherfucka you chose to be | |
| On the side opposin' me, no matter what culture you be | |
| From, Young | |
| Hova light your ass up explosively | |
| A lil' use | |
| K for ya, pour out the | |
| P-A for ya | |
| Had to bring y'all like back in the day for ya | |
| They don't respect nothin' else, they somethin' else | |
| Two guns with sons will get inside yourself | |
| Loose two lungs, bullets'll get inside your health | |
| Will take the wind outta yourself, like so | |
| Niggas for truely in a war with yours truly | |
| While they emulating shit they saw in the | |
| Art Of War movie | |
| But I'm the writer of | |
| Sun Tzu, so whatever son do | |
| Catch me if you can, | |
| I'm the gingerbread man | |
| Keep pumpin' 'em up make me injure bre-thren | |
| Niggas is tryna capitalize of | |
| HovLike I don't realize, | |
| I see the demons inside of they souls | |
| Niggas is dreamin' to sell what | |
| I soldFuckers is fiendin' to held what | |
| I holdI just know what | |
| I knowThey respect me all across the globe, although | |
| I'm from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Uh, uh huh, yea, yo, yo | |
| It ain't nothin' to double clips, trust the fifth could be toss | |
| Niggas poppin' their shit, they startin' ta piss me off | |
| Bitches and bitch niggas tryna ride against homie | |
| So fuck them and the | |
| Originator of | |
| SophieThe gat spit rapid, duel actions | |
| Look, I'm nice with the fifth the moments when you bastard get sick | |
| I'm from the ghetto is turf where the metal do work | |
| My ER eight grade, they had the errors since birth | |
| Me and the | |
| God spittin', you know police come chalk ya | |
| It's like you peep this and | |
| I'm the young | |
| A. WalkerFuck it, | |
| I'm ridin' with | |
| Sig, you niggas is sweet | |
| Collidin' with | |
| Cam and I'm throwin' with | |
| FreeGeda K's the co-d, young boss | |
| Until we State | |
| Property, we spit in the | |
| TaurusFuck it, | |
| H in the pen, huh | |
| You know we bang where we from nigga, | |
| H to the pen, it's nothin' | |
| I'm from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Yeah, murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Aiyyo, the | |
| South Philly motherfucka kill at will | |
| I keep my | |
| Mack Milly chilly chill | |
| You niggas' gay like that for real | |
| I move yay all day for real | |
| Boss's plaque, check the status for real | |
| Balls splat, you will lay in the ground for real | |
| All day I'ma ammo for real | |
| Clip shape like bananas for real | |
| Guerrilla warfare hittin' the field | |
| Six saw head splittin' your grill | |
| New issue, or | |
| I might grip the | |
| Uzi pistol | |
| Do more than bruise tissues | |
| Crack bone marrow, lose grisel | |
| Sit you down in a chair for real | |
| Forever you'll wheel around for real | |
| Listen boy, | |
| I get it down for real | |
| I clutch pound for real | |
| When I ball you touch down for real | |
| Correct tar, | |
| Brett Farve, hecklaw | |
| Cops send shots down your field | |
| Tell, muah, leave the town for real | |
| I'm from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Yeah, murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill... |
| zuo ci : Carter, Cox, Grant, Smith | |
| Chilly chill | |
| It' s gangsta, turn the music up, uh, ch' eah | |
| Yeah, we back on that gangsta, gangsta shit | |
| Shit, they just wanna play the motherfuckin' game | |
| We don' t give a fuck but | |
| Swizz' ll lit up somethin' on you niggas | |
| Chilly chill, let' s go | |
| I' m from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Yeah, from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| I feel like a felon with two strikes, mad bullshit in this life | |
| I done seen everythin' but | |
| Christ, luckily | |
| I' m just off the basement | |
| You niggas just bullshittin' with bars | |
| The boys you got just tryin' my patience | |
| Like, I don' t carry around banana clips like groceries | |
| With a presence that make ' em don' t wanna get ' em close to me | |
| Talk about we suppose to be brothers | |
| Don' t make me laugh, motherfucka you chose to be | |
| On the side opposin' me, no matter what culture you be | |
| From, Young | |
| Hova light your ass up explosively | |
| A lil' use | |
| K for ya, pour out the | |
| PA for ya | |
| Had to bring y' all like back in the day for ya | |
| They don' t respect nothin' else, they somethin' else | |
| Two guns with sons will get inside yourself | |
| Loose two lungs, bullets' ll get inside your health | |
| Will take the wind outta yourself, like so | |
| Niggas for truely in a war with yours truly | |
| While they emulating shit they saw in the | |
| Art Of War movie | |
| But I' m the writer of | |
| Sun Tzu, so whatever son do | |
| Catch me if you can, | |
| I' m the gingerbread man | |
| Keep pumpin' ' em up make me injure brethren | |
| Niggas is tryna capitalize of | |
| HovLike I don' t realize, | |
| I see the demons inside of they souls | |
| Niggas is dreamin' to sell what | |
| I soldFuckers is fiendin' to held what | |
| I holdI just know what | |
| I knowThey respect me all across the globe, although | |
| I' m from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Uh, uh huh, yea, yo, yo | |
| It ain' t nothin' to double clips, trust the fifth could be toss | |
| Niggas poppin' their shit, they startin' ta piss me off | |
| Bitches and bitch niggas tryna ride against homie | |
| So fuck them and the | |
| Originator of | |
| SophieThe gat spit rapid, duel actions | |
| Look, I' m nice with the fifth the moments when you bastard get sick | |
| I' m from the ghetto is turf where the metal do work | |
| My ER eight grade, they had the errors since birth | |
| Me and the | |
| God spittin', you know police come chalk ya | |
| It' s like you peep this and | |
| I' m the young | |
| A. WalkerFuck it, | |
| I' m ridin' with | |
| Sig, you niggas is sweet | |
| Collidin' with | |
| Cam and I' m throwin' with | |
| FreeGeda K' s the cod, young boss | |
| Until we State | |
| Property, we spit in the | |
| TaurusFuck it, | |
| H in the pen, huh | |
| You know we bang where we from nigga, | |
| H to the pen, it' s nothin' | |
| I' m from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Yeah, murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Aiyyo, the | |
| South Philly motherfucka kill at will | |
| I keep my | |
| Mack Milly chilly chill | |
| You niggas' gay like that for real | |
| I move yay all day for real | |
| Boss' s plaque, check the status for real | |
| Balls splat, you will lay in the ground for real | |
| All day I' ma ammo for real | |
| Clip shape like bananas for real | |
| Guerrilla warfare hittin' the field | |
| Six saw head splittin' your grill | |
| New issue, or | |
| I might grip the | |
| Uzi pistol | |
| Do more than bruise tissues | |
| Crack bone marrow, lose grisel | |
| Sit you down in a chair for real | |
| Forever you' ll wheel around for real | |
| Listen boy, | |
| I get it down for real | |
| I clutch pound for real | |
| When I ball you touch down for real | |
| Correct tar, | |
| Brett Farve, hecklaw | |
| Cops send shots down your field | |
| Tell, muah, leave the town for real | |
| I' m from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Yeah, murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill... |
| zuò cí : Carter, Cox, Grant, Smith | |
| Chilly chill | |
| It' s gangsta, turn the music up, uh, ch' eah | |
| Yeah, we back on that gangsta, gangsta shit | |
| Shit, they just wanna play the motherfuckin' game | |
| We don' t give a fuck but | |
| Swizz' ll lit up somethin' on you niggas | |
| Chilly chill, let' s go | |
| I' m from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Yeah, from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| I feel like a felon with two strikes, mad bullshit in this life | |
| I done seen everythin' but | |
| Christ, luckily | |
| I' m just off the basement | |
| You niggas just bullshittin' with bars | |
| The boys you got just tryin' my patience | |
| Like, I don' t carry around banana clips like groceries | |
| With a presence that make ' em don' t wanna get ' em close to me | |
| Talk about we suppose to be brothers | |
| Don' t make me laugh, motherfucka you chose to be | |
| On the side opposin' me, no matter what culture you be | |
| From, Young | |
| Hova light your ass up explosively | |
| A lil' use | |
| K for ya, pour out the | |
| PA for ya | |
| Had to bring y' all like back in the day for ya | |
| They don' t respect nothin' else, they somethin' else | |
| Two guns with sons will get inside yourself | |
| Loose two lungs, bullets' ll get inside your health | |
| Will take the wind outta yourself, like so | |
| Niggas for truely in a war with yours truly | |
| While they emulating shit they saw in the | |
| Art Of War movie | |
| But I' m the writer of | |
| Sun Tzu, so whatever son do | |
| Catch me if you can, | |
| I' m the gingerbread man | |
| Keep pumpin' ' em up make me injure brethren | |
| Niggas is tryna capitalize of | |
| HovLike I don' t realize, | |
| I see the demons inside of they souls | |
| Niggas is dreamin' to sell what | |
| I soldFuckers is fiendin' to held what | |
| I holdI just know what | |
| I knowThey respect me all across the globe, although | |
| I' m from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Uh, uh huh, yea, yo, yo | |
| It ain' t nothin' to double clips, trust the fifth could be toss | |
| Niggas poppin' their shit, they startin' ta piss me off | |
| Bitches and bitch niggas tryna ride against homie | |
| So fuck them and the | |
| Originator of | |
| SophieThe gat spit rapid, duel actions | |
| Look, I' m nice with the fifth the moments when you bastard get sick | |
| I' m from the ghetto is turf where the metal do work | |
| My ER eight grade, they had the errors since birth | |
| Me and the | |
| God spittin', you know police come chalk ya | |
| It' s like you peep this and | |
| I' m the young | |
| A. WalkerFuck it, | |
| I' m ridin' with | |
| Sig, you niggas is sweet | |
| Collidin' with | |
| Cam and I' m throwin' with | |
| FreeGeda K' s the cod, young boss | |
| Until we State | |
| Property, we spit in the | |
| TaurusFuck it, | |
| H in the pen, huh | |
| You know we bang where we from nigga, | |
| H to the pen, it' s nothin' | |
| I' m from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Yeah, murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Aiyyo, the | |
| South Philly motherfucka kill at will | |
| I keep my | |
| Mack Milly chilly chill | |
| You niggas' gay like that for real | |
| I move yay all day for real | |
| Boss' s plaque, check the status for real | |
| Balls splat, you will lay in the ground for real | |
| All day I' ma ammo for real | |
| Clip shape like bananas for real | |
| Guerrilla warfare hittin' the field | |
| Six saw head splittin' your grill | |
| New issue, or | |
| I might grip the | |
| Uzi pistol | |
| Do more than bruise tissues | |
| Crack bone marrow, lose grisel | |
| Sit you down in a chair for real | |
| Forever you' ll wheel around for real | |
| Listen boy, | |
| I get it down for real | |
| I clutch pound for real | |
| When I ball you touch down for real | |
| Correct tar, | |
| Brett Farve, hecklaw | |
| Cops send shots down your field | |
| Tell, muah, leave the town for real | |
| I' m from murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Yeah, murder, murder | |
| Marcyville | |
| My nigga you heard | |
| I clap you, | |
| I certainly will | |
| With my South | |
| Philly motherfuckers kill at will | |
| Bet the nine milli make you niggas, chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill | |
| Chilly chill... |
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