Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Talk , by - Ja Rule. Release date: 31.12.2003
Song language: English
Talk |
| Well bitch niggaz get you of the grind, nigga grab the nine and |
| Well fake niggaz try to cop the style, cop the 40 cal then |
| Well if you don’t like the way its going down, nigga grip the pounding |
| And if there’s more than one that got the gold, grab the cal keep going |
| Real talk, the inc about to run New York |
| Cause there’s no real niggaz left to hold the torch |
| Who gon’hold us of, cause you don’t read newspaper’s nigga |
| Lt Ja tell it, that’s murder inc boy’s, that’s real killers |
| Money laundering, tax avaid and drug dealers |
| Backed by chemical grit, you can’t be serious |
| We just niggaz getting money, fucking all the bitches |
| And life and death between a matter of inches |
| You know |
| That fo’four that handle his buisness |
| Like capital game, reload and hit them with intrest |
| Damn |
| What so gangsta about these niggaz |
| Now I got the full speed niggaz, led |
| Leave them dead over prayers, or head |
| Cause we done fucking these same bitches |
| And you know they talk, and the pillows be my witness |
| My forgiveness |
| Niggaz can’t be this stupid |
| It’s gun talk, niggaz better get used to it |
| I dont’care if you’re a criminal or a cop, shoot or get shot |
| I’m raised by the plot, product of the hater |
| The gauge and the glock, and I keep a blade |
| I ain’t afraid if it pop, the gauge still a gun |
| Married muder one, sleep with the fishes |
| Tasting red rum, young and corrupted |
| Nothing to fuck with, straight out of the gutter |
| With no introduction |
| Our role models is forced with the hollows |
| Fuck slothes the swallow the fifth a holla |
| The whitness and the polla |
| Weed twisting ganja |
| Load up the clip’s and flip the corner |
| They Morner, be morners stay gunner |
| We gangster, gangster point and blank ya' |
| Thank ya' |
| Niggaz keep me in the mood |
| To eat a nigga food |
| I murder with real bombs |
| The nine the cal the pound of coke, niggaz |
| The weed the dope the E’the coke, niggaz |
| The gauge is mine, that’s all I know |
| I’ve been doing this since 9 6, the oldies know |
| This tough load, the 3 8 o’s, I let my hoe’s hold |
| Keep it in them working, In case I’m legal searching |
| They got worship god, and trust the gun |
| Ask for your forgiveness, and send niggaz up Fucking stick niggaz up, these bitch niggaz touch |
| It’s all about violence, real niggaz is silenced |
| And know these niggaz whoes guns got low mileage |
| Got ducked taped, all tied up in their houses |
| I’ll make you watch while I fuck the spouse |
| This, ain’t buisness, it’s personal, gun talk |
| when I holla your the first to know |
| How many hoes, and how much blood has been lost of Yeah |
| Murder INC |
| We riding here motherfuckers |