Murda (Explicit)

Murda (Explicit) - Quality Control/Migo Domingo/Duke Deuce

Lyrics by：Patavious Isom/Fabio Aguilar/Keanu Dean Torres/Niles Groce/Dominic Spigner

Composed by：Patavious Isom/Fabio Aguilar/Keanu Dean Torres/Niles Groce/Dominic Spigner

Ay Duke Deuce

What the f**k these n***as talkin' 'bout man

Ay they got us f**ked up

Y-R-N

Money paper racks cash blue hunnids guapa-nese

Foreign b***hes suckin' f**kin' got 'em all on they knees

All my n***as totin' pistols even with felonies

And they shoot 'em like a camera n***a say cheese

I know n***as bangin' Bloods Crips and some G's

And I got them shooters 'cross the country overseas

These Percocet 10's got me geekin' feel like Hercules

It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season

What

It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season

Murda

Them young n***as killin' hurtin' n***as for no reason

Brrah

Free my brothers down the road locked up but still eatin'

And they'll still never ever fold

When they see the judge ain't no pleadin'

It's just me and Duke Deuce

Duke Deuce

We gon' beat a n***a a*s 'til he turn black/blue

Boom boom

See the opps we gon' shoot

Brrah

All these dead bodies n***a recognize who was who

Who-who

Way I ran got 'em spooked

What

I came in with the gang so I'ma pull up with the troops

Gang

And I ain't ever gon' switch

Nah

And my n***a wiped your nose there's no one you can use

B***h

Murda murda murda murda murda murda

Murda

These n***as gangsta poppin' s**t 'til we turn 'em

What

Into b***hes yes we keep that fire we gon' burn 'em

Brrah

No you can't buy them stripes n***a gotta earn 'em

Money paper racks cash blue hunnids guapa-nese

Foreign b***hes suckin' f**kin' got 'em all on they knees

All my n***as totin' pistols even with felonies

And they shoot 'em like a camera n***a say cheese

I know n***as bangin' Bloods Crips and some G's

And I got them shooters 'cross the country overseas

These Percocet 10's got me geekin' feel like Hercules

It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season

1-2-3-4 trappers up in my bando

5-6-7-8 sticks so the b***h better get low

B***h better get low

You think of Duke Deuces Memphis

Memphis

Makin' easy money and pimpin'

Pimpin'

Whole 'lotta robbin and dealin'

And dealin'

Man everybody here killin'

Man everybody killin'

I heat up and beat up the block

I G up to keep up to re-up the stock

Re-up the stock

Look what I am what you're not

The people they eat up 'cause all my s**t hot

My s**t hot

I'm out with no fours my ice is cold

His ice cream rocky road

Rocky road

Stick to the code I never fold

I put that on the fours

Diddy

You can see in a n***a eyes some hunger

Don't bother me

N***a f**k with me they gon' hide lil' homie

Yeah my nuts hangin' ain't no gangbangin'

Why the f**k you shootin' if you ain't aimin'

Goin' one-fifty end up half-capped

With the red seats like a dark angel

Money paper racks cash blue hunnids guapa-nese

Foreign b***hes suckin' f**kin' got 'em all on they knees

All my n***as totin' pistols even with felonies

And they shoot 'em like a camera n***a say cheese

I know n***as bangin' Bloods Crips and some G's

And I got them shooters 'cross the country overseas

These Percocet 10's got me geekin' feel like Hercules

It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season