Murder

Fuck this motherfucker, he just got love, you know what I mean?

Because we got to get out here, ain't no place here for us

You know what I mean? But that motherfucker, I need to kill him

That's all

Murder (huh), mur-

Murder (talkin' 'bout a murder), mur-

Murder (huh), mur- mur-

Murder (check it out)

I'm still Pimp C bitch, so what the fuck is up?

Puttin' powder on the streets 'cause I got big fuckin' nuts

Comin' back from Louisiana in a Fleetwood 'Lac

I just served them niggas some shit to put they fiends on they back

Got the pounds going for four 'cause you know I just paid two

Nigga bought 30 from me, so I fronted 42

He gon' pop for 700 times 62

24, eight is what I get, so nigga, fuck what you do

If I told ya cocaine numbers, you would think I was lyin'

Young-ass niggas, 22, is talkin' 'bout they retirin'

In the game, ain't a thang, comin' foreign with Benz

Brick-ass home, two apartments, where I entertain friends

More bounce to the ounce 'cause the Brougham the shit

I done got me 50 ounces out a bird in this bitch

Tighten up, no slack, bitches checkin' my stock

Got some birds I sell to niggas, some I go rock for rock

Just got back from California, kicked it wit' B-Legit

Put me down wit' purple chronic and that hurricane shit

At the studio with Tone, man, I wish I could stay

I got to holla at Master P 'cause we got money to make

And when playas from the South stack Gs, man

Like Ball, I gotta stack big cheese, man

Bitch say he want a show, you got nine grand?

I ain't rappin' shit until my money in my hand

South Texas, motherfucker, that's where I stay

Gettin' money from your bitches every Goddamn day

Big paper, I'm foldin' (foldin')

Hoes is on my motherfuckin' jock for all this dick that I be holdin'

I hate clone men, show it

Especially them fools that take our style and act like my niggas don't know it

Kick it wit' the trill niggas, so you best not trip

If ya keep on poppin' shit, my nigga, empty the clip, hoe-ass nigga

Murder, mur-

Murder, mur-

Murder, mur- mur-

Murder

Murder, mur-

Murder, mur-

Murder, mur-mur-

Murder

Well, it's Bun B, bitch, and I'm the king of movin' chickens

Not them finger-lickings, stickin' niggas that be trickin'

You need a swift kickin', yo' ass is ripe for the pickin'

Now as my pockets thicken, I'm deep-thinkin', nickel-slickin'

You sick when I be clickin', now take a look at the bigger nigga

Malt liquor swigger, player hater, ditch digger

Figure my hair trigger, give a hot one in yo' liver

You shiver, shake, and quiver, I'm frivolous if a

Nigga get wetter than a river, for what it's worth, it's the birth

Of some niggas doin' dirt, fuck her first night, take off the skirt

Make her pussy hurt, Mister Master, hit the

Swisha faster, than you fever blistered bastards, fucked

Your sister, passed her, fifty elbows for sale, yo'

Brother better have my mail, hoe, 'fore I catch a

Murder case and go to jail, oh hell no, time to bail

Hit the trail so, we can sell mo' fuckin' yayo

Get the scale, no other bullet duckers can shove us

Out of this game, they better buck us, 'cause the cluckers, they love us

Make them glass dick suckers shake they jelly like Smucker's

I hit like nunchakus, 'cause short Texas bring the ruckus

This for my motherfuckers, cookin' cheese to crooked Gs

Rockin' up quarter keys to get the hook with ease

Wanna-be's get on your knees, feel the squeeze from them

HK13s, from here to overseas

We do what we please, don't trip 'cause we flip, light up a dip

I'm breakin' 'em off, from they hip to your lip, go ask that boy Skip

That nigga Bun rip, wit' one clip, soon as the gun slip

Now I done whipped out my Barrelli, flyin' through

Your Pelle Pelle and some smelly red jelly is drippin'

Out of ya belly, served 'em up like a deli, jumped on

My cellular tele', hoe sell it like it's goin' out of style

You can't see me, Marcus, so have a motherfuckin' Sweet and a smile

Murder, mur-

Murder, mur-

Murder, mur-mur-

Murder