Lyrics It's Murda - Prodigy, 50 Cent

It's Murda

Yeah
Show these niggas what time it is, man
Ayo
Yo dunny little bitch ass nigga shot up my car
Y’all little dirty ma’fuckers know who you are
Little snitch ass bastards, bitch ass bastards
I still be in your hood comin' through for mad years
Out in Brooklyn, I see your punk asses again
It’ll be murder, I don’t care who’s looking
That’s right, catch me right up in
Red hook, pink houses, and Queensbridge still
Can’t nobody run me up out the hood (Nah)
I’m like the IKEA store, see me up in your hood
Whether I’m there for business, or no business
Y’all idiots best mind your business
When my shots go off they find they victims
Then I scratch names of the shit-list
When my shots go off they find they victims (Pow)
Then I scratch names of the shit-list (Yeah, uh-huh, yeah)
Straight murder, it be straight murder
Shoot me, and I still live, and that’s your ass
(Fuck you thought, man?)
We make homicide look like suicide
But that’s murder, it be straight murder
The bullets you hit me wit’ll be your last
Straight murder, it be straight murder
Yeah (That's right, that’s right, that’s right)
I can’t keep count of how many niggas I cut with my blade
Kilo across your face as thick as your braids
Nigga, it’s hot in the hood, you can’t walk with a gauge
Come outside with the pump, you’ll be stuck in a cage
I took the hit, and got up quick, stuck in a rage
And my pain just pour through a pen on a page
Wrong shit out your mouth, I’ll put a hole in your fade
Then it’s back-and-forth to court, fighting the case
I got extra money, my spots is pumping the bass
So if you can’t rap, it’s cool, I hit you with a eighth
They call me Hustle Man, fam, 'cause I switch up my hustle
Get to sticking niggas up when that coke don’t bubble
Since a lil' nigga, I ain’t been nuttin' but trouble
It’s easy to fuck up when you feel like nobody love ya
I keep telling y’all niggas that I came up hard
And I think like a nigga in Sing-Sing on the yard
Yeah
Straight murder, it be straight murder
Shoot me, and I still live, and that’s your ass
(Fuck you thought, man?)
We make homicide look like suicide
But that’s murder, it be straight murder
The bullets you hit me wit’ll be your last
Straight murder, it be straight murder
(That's right, that’s right)
When it’s on
I beat the shit out of dead horses, keep killing 'em
You see us in 'em Porsches, we killing 'em
Rap music got problems, 'cause I’m starting shit
Anybody got problems with P can come get it
I’m not scared of you, I’m very available
You acting like you’re so hard, I’m right here, dude
No guards, no bulletproof vest
Them shits is too bogey, and they make me sweat
Fuck it, if it’s time to go it’s time to go
Plus what’s it gonna help when they shooting for your head, yo?
Ain’t no mission impossible
And ain’t no man alive got that much strength
That he can’t get touch, huh, you that sick, ain’t you?
And that quick, you turn into a thug angel
Huh, you that sick, ain’t you?
And that quick, you turn into a thug angel
Straight murder, it be straight murder
Shoot me, and I still live, and that’s your ass
(Fuck you thought, man?)
We make homicide look like suicide
But that’s murder, it be straight murder (You heard, right?)
The bullets you hit me wit’ll be your last
Straight murder, it be straight murder
(That's right, that’s right)
Yeah
Straight murder, it be straight murder
Shoot me, and I still live, and that’s your ass
(Fuck you thought, man?)
We make homicide look like suicide
But that’s murder, it be straight murder (You heard, right?)
The bullets you hit me wit’ll be your last
Straight murder, it be straight murder
(That's right, that’s right)