Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Murder, artist - Nu JerZey Devil. Album song BWS Radio, Vol. 1, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.05.2012
Record label: Street Grind Entertainment
Song language: English
Murder |
Starin' at Marilyn Monroe’s silhouette |
While smokin' my first cigarette |
Listenin' to Marvin ask his father about his death |
How you shoot a nigga out, then shoot a nigga out? |
Dead bodies in my dreams, Bob Marley on my couch |
Pass me the blunt, he was smokin' when he died |
You really think Elvis Presley committed suicide? |
I don’t, it’s either kill or you be killed |
Ten pints of blood per human, ain’t no refills |
One thing about us humans, nigga, we kill |
Turkeys, chickens, pigs, each other, fuck us, we will |
Take a life, lethal injection or free will |
Tookie got murdered by the pigs, fuck did he kill? |
That ain’t none of my business, though |
But I’m the type of motherfucker make it his business, so |
Open the book and turn that page |
It reads Arthur Ashe died from AIDS, no |
That’s murder, nigga |
Murder |
Gunfire, death is so quiet, ask why, tell ‘em it’s |
Murder |
The sun rise then hide by grey skies, that cry sounds like |
Murder |
Murder, murder, murder, murder |
Murder, murder, murder, murder |
Malcolm X standing on that stage |
It was staged for him to see that gauge |
Murder, nigga |
Doctor King outside that room |
Who knew that he would die that soon? |
That’s murder, nigga |
JFK sittin' in that drop |
He waved goodbye, then they blew off his top |
It’s murder, nigga |
Diddy seen Big, and Suge watched Pac |
They both was ridin' passenger when they got shot, it’s murder |
Who the fuck killed Michael Jackson, his physician? |
He died slow in his music, you ain’t really listen |
Now his daughter gettin' slapped by his sister |
And that’s probably gon' kill they mama |
So I’m sorry Ms. Jackson, I’m sorry Ms. Houston, sissy |
Might shed a tear but ain’t no sissy |
‘Cause Whitney’s sill with me |
And her death kinda hurt a nigga |
So let’s get back to talkin' ‘bout murder, nigga |
John Lennon got shot in the back |
And Paul McCartney couldn’t do shit ‘bout that |
‘Cause it was murder, nigga |
Listen, this ain’t about you and me |
It’s about Trayvon Martin and Huey P |
And how they shot down Sam Cooke |
Twelve years of school and it ain’t in one damn book |
Lee Harvey Oswald ‘bout to serve a sentence |
From the crowd comes a revolver |
That’s murder, nigga |
Gaspin' for air, niggas cling on |
Tryin' to fight the inevitable, sing on |
You hear that fat lady warmin' up? |
The end came without a warning, huh? |
Them niggas real with them rags on |
Niggas get killed ‘bout them flags, homes |
The Game told you what the play was |
So it don’t matter what you say, cuz |
Say Blood, these niggas livin' what they die by |
You out here playin' while these niggas doin' drive-bys |
If murder was the case that they gave Snoop |
Then how the fuck you thinking they gon' save you? |
Them niggas played you, you doin' stand up |
You a comedian there, boy, put your hands up |
Don’t turn this to a 1−8-7 |
I have you leanin' on the stairway to Heaven |
Spittin' blood, these are tales from the hood |
Suicide sound quicker, but a murder sounds good |
Wish a motherfucker would try to play me like a toy |
You get a bullet in your motherfuckin' head, homeboy |
The people sayin' that a drug overdose killed Hendrix |
They bullshitted, it was murder |
Or a plane crash killed Otis Redding |
That’s how they said it, but it was murder |
The cops kill us at alarming rates |
They point they guns at the ones they hate (niggas) |
If Bin Laden brought the World Trade down |
Then how the fuck did he die just now? |
Murder, murder (Murder, murder, kill, kill) |
(They killin' motherfuckers still) |
(And I’m just tellin' y’all the real) |
(Nigga, murder, murder, murder |
(Nigga, kill, kill, kill, for real) |