Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Recipe 4 A Murder , by - Willie D. Release date: 05.03.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Recipe 4 A Murder |
| Motherfuckers are dying |
| And getting buried in the cemetary |
| 'Cause they ass couldn’t pass the preliminaries |
| That’s when you mind your own |
| Stay in line and keep the fuck out of mine |
| 'Cause goddamn I ain’t got it all |
| This year I’m a fuck off a whole lot of y’all |
| There was a body found in a lake |
| Butt naked, wrapped in duct tape |
| And the #1 suspect came from a broken home |
| That ain’t been fixed yet |
| You got family, ah that’s beautiful |
| I want to see them at your goddamn funeral |
| Along with your bitch and your friends |
| 'Cause I’m a view the body, and pop your ass again |
| No I’m not dick riding the chronic like the others |
| I’m just the wrong motherfucker |
| For a nigga to play with or say shit |
| Behind my back, 'cause nigga that’s gay shit |
| I’ll make a nigga drop his pants then buck him |
| Throw him in the ditch and let the dope fiends fuck him |
| I can’t charge it to the game |
| 'Cause the game never paid Willie D a goddamn thing |
| I’m talking about a cold-blooded murder |
| You never heard of a recipe for a murder |
| Lay your guns down |
| You don’t want to see me clown |
| One shot to your dome |
| Two shots, now you’re gone |
| Lay your guns down |
| You don’t want to see me clown |
| One shot to your dome |
| Two shots, now you’re gone |
| Niggas I’m smooth |
| But watch me move on this groove |
| About niggas getting they ass misused |
| I’m a soldier, I don’t start trouble see |
| But somehow man the shit just find me |
| Now take a nigga talking shit |
| Better yet he talking shit to me |
| Trying to impress one of his homies |
| A front for a bitch that I done already fucked |
| And to this day I can still get my dick sucked |
| Mix that together with a hot ass club |
| And that’s a little dish called a nigga getting his ass drugged |
| But my hands ain’t enough |
| I gotta schedule you a wait |
| Give you two to the head for old times' sake |
| So don’t fuck with me and don’t fuck with this clique |
| Unless you ready to lay in front of a pulpit |
| With your mama crying listening to some verses being read |
| For you trying to catch lead with your head |
| Did you hear what I said? |
| I want to see some red, pronounce your punk ass dead |
| Now you can beg, give me your dope and your bitch |
| Suck my dick but it still won’t change shit |
| Because I hate motherfuckers who talk trash |
| So don’t let your mouth overload your ass |
| But some still gonna flex |
| And I’m a swing and connect |
| And it’s gonna feel like a train wreck |
| I’m putting in work |
| Fucking with Sho you’ll be the quietest nigga in the church |
| And if a bitch is in my mix then a nigga gotta hurt her |
| Bitches die too my recipe for a murder |
| My recipe for a murder is simple |
| Fuck with Will and get one to your temple |
| So pull your motherfucking guns |
| And I’m a show you I’m the clean-up man in more ways than one |
| You got a posse, a thick clique |
| Cool, it makes it easier to hit me a bitch |
| I want to see you piss on yourself |
| And your eyes buck, for fucking with Wize Up |
| 'Cause there’s too many studio gangsters making noise |
| Knowing that they’re motherfucking choir boys |
| I’m coming from the south |
| I talk that talk, I walk that walk that fucks your ass off |
| Niggas try to deal with it |
| But got the fuck out of Dodge when they saw I was real with it |
| So if you’re talking shit about the Gulf Coast |
| Suck a dead man’s dick until you’re comatose |
| And if a cop want to blast, we can blast |
| I’m a 2Pac Shakur his ass |
| I’m talking about a cold blooded murder |
| You never heard of a recipe for a murder |
| Lay your guns down |
| You don’t want to see me clown |
| One shot to your dome |
| Two shots, now you’re gone |
| Lay your guns down |
| You don’t want to see me clown |
| One shot to your dome |
| Two shots, now you’re gone |
| Don’t push me 'cause I’m close to the edge |
| I’m trying not to lose my head, but dig this |
| One nigga got got in the parking lot |
| 'Cause his punk ass ran me hot |
| Talking about he coming back |
| With his boys and his gat |
| But he ain’t never coming back |
| See when a motherfucker threaten Willie D |
| I gotta fuck him off before he fuck off me |
| The trigger finger ain’t never nervous |
| So unless you’re sucking my dick, save the lip service |
| I know a gang of motherfuckers who done passed |
| For letting that mouth overload that ass |
| It’s a wreath from the goddamn forest |
| Check out the motherfucking chorus |
| Lay your guns down |
| You don’t want to see me clown |
| One shot to your dome |
| Two shots, now you’re gone |
| Lay your guns down |
| You don’t want to see me clown |
| One shot to your dome |
| Two shots, now you’re gone |
| Yeah, it’s time for all you motherfuckers out there to wise up |
| 'Cause we handle our business on the records and the streets |
| Punk motherfuckers |