Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Inc., artist - Ja Rule. Album song Pain Is Love, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 01.10.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: A Def Jam Recordings Release;
Song language: English
The Inc. |
Yo, that’s right |
Niggas just ain’t, doin' it how we doin' it |
Nah mean son? |
I G |
Murder INC |
Takin' flight |
We go hard |
Betta get it right |
We go hard! |
yeah |
Player not for nuttin' |
I spit fo' and leave a nigga bent up fo' sho', get low |
Only got love for gangsta niggas, get doe |
That’s for all the hatin' niggas waitin' to see me go |
Down to the bottom |
Chop up crack |
Playin' the blocks and |
Still wouldn’t matter, push the rock well like Stockton |
Paper chasin', chasin' acres |
Operation get rich, take money over a bitch |
You see me move low in the six and magazines a flicks |
Playin' hard in the porch, plush |
Young thuggin' and bossed up |
Touch niggas clutchin' what they know they bustin' |
We can do whatever nigga, whenever nigga |
Really is nothing |
Murder killa, we crush 'em, shit |
Got the industry on romadon |
While we celebrate tastin' bottles of Perinon |
So for life it’s murder |
Ice burners, stacks and trucks |
We after bucks, mother fucker! |
Murder INC |
Murder INC.'s the underdog |
It’s a blessin' to ball |
We learn a lesson from y’all |
How not to fall |
Black Child will body a beat, this is airway robbery |
When Murder INC. drop albums, that’s when gangstas party |
What chu know about Ferrari or Cadillac Escalade |
Or bitches on Ecstasy, sexy |
Eat, sleep, eat and watch freaks eat freaks |
Throw it up, put it down for the streets |
Who wouldn’t fall in love, with a life like this |
Hittin' hoes that’s priceless |
In tight icebergs shit |
You can blame the drugs |
It ain’t gon' change to slugs |
A famous thug |
Pain is love, mother fuckers! |
Who would’ve thought, we get away with manslaughter |
Numerous cars, cribs off the water |
A playa no longer, life’s gettin' shorter |
Tired of hoes takin' offers, instead of orders |
The Rule don’t condone this |
Cause in the late '60's this game was flawless |
Until blow got on the rise |
Them ol' Jacks was slingin' pies in bell bottoms and buttonflies |
But now, pop yo collars, blow set for sag |
And we still fly birds L-A-X to Lag |
They roll caddies with white walls, we ride Benz with mags |
Still the goal remains the same, guard from feds |
Y-D to O-G, the game chose me |
R-U-L-E the INC. and I-G |
We never gon' break free from this life we live as thugs |
Pain is love, it’s murda |
You see the life we live, we on the murderous shit |
And every time we breathe, it’s Murder I-N-C |
You know it’s love to thug, cause thug is in our blood |
And how we paint this shit, stay on that gangsta shit |
You see the life we live, we on the murderous shit |
And every time we breathe, it’s Murder I-N-C |
You know it’s love to thug, cause thug is in our blood |
And how we paint this shit, stay on that gangsta shit |
Stay on that gangsta shit, stay on that gangsta shit |
Stay on that gangsta shit |
See what we do when we do what we do when we do it |
Stay on that gangsta shit |