| Get him boy
|
| Get him boy
|
| Get him boy
|
| I ain’t having it don’t try to give me dap
|
| I don’t fuck with rats if you take the pack
|
| Better bring that money back
|
| It’s a simple fact, that the bill is scrapped
|
| With the milli mac, hit you with a rack
|
| It’s a mummy wrap
|
| Haters jumping out got you frozen like a snapshot
|
| Drumroll your whole team the mascot
|
| Pure killa, no filter hoover gang
|
| Real niggas never speak about our murder game
|
| Crippling bullies, black hoodies
|
| Get fully loaded nigga, I smack pussy
|
| Pussy pussy cat, come here pussy cat
|
| Pull that hoodie back
|
| We shooting first ain’t no shooting back
|
| I like my bitches from the hood
|
| Head tied with the doobie wrap
|
| She told me bring that big dog
|
| I told her bring that cootie cat
|
| 6 inch Ruger, 9 milli in that Louis bag
|
| Down that shit I be quick to cop the tooly back
|
| Bed for style is one the life is won
|
| My barrel is thorough fill a cold burrow
|
| Niggas on me, I’mma RIP 'em
|
| Put him on display let his homies see him
|
| This young boy think the game is soft
|
| Till they get they whole head knocked off
|
| My nigga still shocked from the crack era
|
| 20 years later coming home together
|
| This style is that really good shit
|
| This that wish a nigga would shit
|
| 2pac and Suge shit
|
| Got a lot of niggas mad because the money’s steady coming in
|
| When I pull my phone out them bitches put they number in
|
| Automatic guns you can call my niggas drummer men
|
| And when they go burrrrahh, you see a bunch of running men
|
| If you ain’t fucking with M. A aye well fuck 'em then
|
| The mixtape is coming that’s a way to bring the summer in
|
| 25 years with an L on it
|
| Put a closed eye no scale on it
|
| Fuck paid a quarter hope it come back
|
| If not guns out and we come back
|
| Still from day one all about the money
|
| Paranoid niggas so they move funny
|
| Taught a boy learn from the hand to hand
|
| Death is life, you can die or you stand
|
| I don’t give a fuck, not a motherfuck
|
| Not a single solitary fuck
|
| Pussy cream when the pistol buck
|
| Keep a pistol tucked
|
| Come up missing when you mess with us
|
| Fuck the game, bitch I run the team the commissioner
|
| I’mma freak, I’mma vicious one
|
| Got some bitches tougher than you niggas that will hit you up
|
| Tell the coroner, zip you up
|
| Pop a zip, tell a sensai roll a cinci up
|
| Brooklyn, home of the official
|
| Motherfuckers comeing with a shock for your body tissue
|
| Probably miss you if you was somebody important
|
| Relevant rappers getting clapped in that black coffin
|
| That’s often seen when I’m on the scene nah-mean?
|
| M.A said get him Buck, I get him with the team nah-mean?
|
| When I’m on the scene nah-mean?
|
| M.A said get him Buck, I get him with the team
|
| Get him boy feel what I’m spitting boy
|
| When the clip deploy niggas get destroyed
|
| RIP, now all I need is a clip of blow it in the crowd
|
| Fuck loud that ain’t shit to me
|
| Nigga try it, you a joke no laughing
|
| But I’mma grab 'e see heads dying
|
| Feds eying shots firing
|
| BK the liars men bitch where I just went
|
| Yea yea
|
| I buck 'em down, I buck em down
|
| I buck 'em down, I buck em down
|
| I buck 'em down |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Murder Game , by - Statik Selektah. Song from the album Lucky 7, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп