Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Murderers, Pimps +Thugs, artist - Do Or Die. Album song Victory, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.10.2005
Record label: Rap-A-Lot
Song language: English
Murderers, Pimps +Thugs |
We the murderers, pimps plus thugs |
We the murderers, pimps plus thugs |
We the murderers, pimps plus thugs |
We the murderers, murderers, murderers |
Growing up in the ghetto |
With that New York state of mind |
I realized that night, that my future was crime |
Hustlin dimes was my trademark |
Soon as that blunt spark |
I, inhale, exhale, took my next sale |
Daily routine, get up, wash ass, get cream |
Cop that first tear on my slick sixteen |
I seen more bricks and cash and shit |
Got greedy, and weed up with that counterfit |
Cuz Pa-pi's gettin sloppy, and kinda fiendly |
Stupid nigga, you been trading thoughts with your enemy? |
Murderous, grimey, from where? |
Hollis Queens |
Woodhull, got it all from thugs and fiends |
I need cream, so I strap the nine to my waistline |
Grabbin OZ, keys to the three |
Hundred GS nigga |
Bulletproof vest to eliminate stress |
Ha, who the best? |
Don’t get close to our side if you ain’t from New York |
You screamin «Ride or Die» or «Pimp till you die» |
You figurin you a murderer, put your guns in the sky |
Make them see em, cuz every nigga we fuck with has heaters |
Don’t get, stepped with these heaters when you hatin on these po-pos |
Don’t think for one time Ja’s comin solo |
It’s Do or Die, Chicago collabo |
Neighborhood watch you from a block with a flock of thugs |
Ready to show some love |
Grippin with extra guns and clips |
And worldwide all these niggas know we love that shit |
How hard we hit, we put you in your darkest pits |
It’s Do or Die and Ja Rule nigga |
Murda for life |
Can’t keep up with the paper chasin |
Gonna run up with these Glocks and rob the basement |
Two niggas with Glocks, cock, pop, drop, quit hastin |
I’s put two in your bitch ass gettin hot with the casin |
It’s kill or be killed in Chi recognize what you facin |
Whores and pimps, hustlers, killers, and drug dealers |
Since a shorty been hollerin seeds with a plug in |
Two for ten, up on the block diamond cut griller |
Be em or see em motherfuckers, be a ho skrilla |
Iller noise state put through my blood |
If niggas got love it’s in my blood |
Run niggas spittin hollows that’s followin shit |
And killin niggas that ain’t real, been hollerin shit |
Better get gone, chrome by the hip bone |
Hit domes like pickles, it’s not to sit on |
Better get’cho pimp on 'for the clips get sticked home |
Sit back til the tricks gone |
Then flash through the hood like you misunderstood |
Diamonds over get that wood |
It’s all good see, low down four pound |
Full clips for showdowns, smoke weed and throw down |
Representin both towns, you don’t know now, better slow down |
P-I-M-P flippin filty |
Cream stream dream, Hennessy, tipsy |
Theres blood for the true thug, puttin weight in the po-pub |
It’s nuthin, sit down and shut up, roll like that |
Then in the morn we ball like that |