| What’s up Chi-town?
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| Yeah, Murder INC. back up in ya area
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| On that gangsta shit ya know
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| Connect worldwide
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| Worldwide gangsta shit nah mean?
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| From Chi-town to Miami
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| Houston to mother fuckin' LA, we connect nigga
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| With some gangsta shit
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| Mother fuckers, you frontin' we comin' with heat niggas
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| AR-15s we sweepin' up the street bigger
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| Guns make niggas run, we squeeze triggers
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| We leave niggas dead for the stacks, slumped over, head in they lap
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| Yo, we constantly count cream in the crackhouse
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| Basically, we bangin' bitches backs out
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| I feel like the last child
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| Throwin' bricks at a glasshouse
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| Poppin' and puffin' till I pass out
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| This gangsta shit is for all my youngens who flip birds
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| And hug the block, in club they Cris and twist the bud, nigga what
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| We live it up, from Chi-town to my town
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| We diggin sluts, long dickin' in the guts
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| We just religious thugs, gangsta pimps
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| Hoes fall in love the way we throw this dick
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| The Hummers on dubs look like tanks and shit
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| We came to stop the bank, don’t blink be sick
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| Nigga all of our love is for the chips
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| And I don’t chase hoes, just pasos and bricks
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| Nigga let me sum it up
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| Y’all niggas is dumb enough
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| Run on up, the guns we tuck, bust
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| Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
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| Holla at us, R-O-C-K-L-A-N-D and I-N-C
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| With Boo and Gotti, Ferrari Black and Caddillac Tah
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| Nigga, we go hard
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| I’m loud when the shells pop
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| Still I sell rock
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| Got outta jail on bail, gettin' ready to plot
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| Yo I kidnap niggas
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| Then bitch smack niggas
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| Give me the crack nigga or get clap nigga
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| I ain’t one of these rap niggas
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| I’m a big gat spitter
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| Bangin' and slangin' to be a rich ass nigga
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| Don’t get tired in these streets
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| My nigga died in these streets
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| It’s only one option, provide for these streets
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| My peeps out here so I ride with these streets
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| Spent weeks out here, grind on these streets
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| I know the deal out here
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| It’s real out here
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| Got bitch bud murder and I’m still out here
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| Rockland, Murder INC. you get killed out here
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| Chi-town, New York, blood spill out here
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| And thugs like me, still out here
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| Yeah you heard nigga, I’m still out here
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| A yo I ride up, lied up outta my mind
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| Black Cadillac truck nigga, loaded with nines
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| To my thugs on the block, holdin' it down
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| I got love on the block, look at my eyes
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| Rockland, Murder INC. what the fuck you think
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| Me and Gotti whole plan is to cover the streets
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| We don’t wanna body you man, fuck the beef
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| We sell a lot of these grams, and clutch the heat
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| To many moves to be made, fake thug niggas
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| Get a few through they brain, I been plug nigga
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| It’s rules to the game
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| Cats like me play not to lose in this game
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| You see this little nigga makin' moves in the Range
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| I see you wack niggas still crusin' with lames
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| Get full nigga cause it’s food to the brain
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| Rockland nigga spit fire and flames
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| Get it right nigga, we gangsta
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| Murder INC. gets poppin' pills, clips, however you like it
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| Niggas get extorted, bitches get excited
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| Known to start riots, the Rule and I-N-C
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| Got fedaraleighs watchin' me, the Y-G and I-G
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| Put it together family orientated through guns, drugs, and good relations
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| Real conversations, we call it real talk
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| And that shit spreads all the way from LA to New York
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| And I love talk, that’s when you get to smash on niggas
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| Catch 'em in the dark spot and put the flash on niggas
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| Cameras, lights, action, go buck at the master
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| C’s and past if when I die blow my ashes
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| Off the shores of Costa Rica, nigga to each is own
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| The Rule ain’t dyin' alone motherfuckers |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Worldwide Gangsta , by - Ja Rule. Song from the album Pain Is Love, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп