Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Die, artist - Ja Rule. Date of issue: 31.12.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Die |
| Yea |
| We about money and murda |
| The fuck y’all want to do Either pass that paper |
| Or we gonna have to kill you |
| It’s like that nigga |
| Don’t question why |
| Cuz when it’s murda motherfucker |
| Everybody gotta die |
| Die motherfucker die |
| Die motherfucker die |
| Die motherfucker die |
| Die motherfucker die |
| Money aint never been nothing |
| I hit the block if this shit get ugly |
| And it aint never been in my heart to let niggas thug me Hit the dealer and cop a drop if the eyes is buggy |
| And pull up in front of the spot cause the mommies love me |
| (Its gangsta) yeah and aint no nigga gone match me Stocky, chubby nigga voice real raspy |
| I see you real flashy but that aint gone last nigga |
| Pop fire off shots and thats your ass nigga |
| Its war now thats why I keep the four with long nozzle |
| Six-hundred bad bitch on it holding down the throttle |
| And fuck that beef shit cause some beef wont die |
| And some niggas will say they gangsta but they wont ride |
| And while its hard for you to decide Ill let it fly |
| Forty shots hit your ride up hit the tropics and hide up Under palm trees to white sand |
| Everything is a price man |
| You snipe when bullets are piping hot |
| When its your flesh it begin warming you |
| Now die motherfucker die |
| Cuz Im tired of warning you |
| Yeah we hear now, die motherfucker |
| Dont be scared now, die motherfucker |
| Black Child Im off parole its murda now |
| In a hood near you about to burn it down |
| Word to God it feels like Im from every hood |
| Cuz when you ghetto your ghetto with gats you good |
| Sell cracks if you could bust your gat when you should |
| Its for my blacks from the bricks back to Inglewood |
| We eat together nigga fuck the crossroads |
| In this world my flow is another lost soul |
| My shit sounds like shots from a four pound |
| For these bitch clowns its war now |
| Its all about paper thats my issue |
| Fuck peace you can have a piece of the pistol |
| Everybody gonna die but nobody want dead |
| Die motherfucker die, its your life |
| Everybody wanna live, but they wanna live scared |
| Die motherfucker Die, thats your life |
| Niggas know the truth |
| Rule raises the roof |
| Cuz I pop more shots than Abdul-Rauf |
| And when the concludes I bring closure to the situ |
| Come thru squeeze eight out the stolen black pinto |
| Niggas know my mental kill or be killed head for the hills |
| But dont never slide down it if you to high ground it |
| (puff, puff) uhhh! |
| Is how it sounded two shots thru and silent |
| And one nigga stripped of his talents |
| New fucking Yiddy City the sex and violence |
| Where first time offenders get floated to the island |
| And one time give a nigga one time |
| Breathe wrong and a nigga have a blown mind |
| I blow lines like an addict |
| Bust guns erratic shine blind like carats |
| Rules above average me and this music make a marriage |
| So I thee wed till Im either jailed or dead motherfuckers |
| Feel me niggas |
| Word to God |
| Feel us nigga |
| We here, again |
| It’s Murda |