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lirik lagu c-bo - murder that he ritt

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[verse 1]
i don’t know judo
but, down with you know
strapped with two glocks
gone off some kuno
headed for the house party on the southside
four deep in a ragtop six five
h-lla b-tches (h-lla b-tches)
hanging out the window
k!ller cali style from foes that eight fifty-fizzle
hoes don’t stack
’cause n-ggas been ballin’ crack since the mac (since the mac)
packin’ they gat and won’t think twice to bust a cap (buck)
sportin’ a brim like, freddy, krueger
some drinkin’ heavy shooters (shooters)
all strapped down with two rugers (with two rugers)
i pull over hit the juice on my ride
i got front and back and side to side
in murder that he writ

[hook]
(the murder show)
the murder that he writ
(the murder show)
in the murder that he writ

[verse 2]
i’m a born soldier to these h-ll made streets
in my dreams when my back is turned somebody’s murderin’ me (uhh)
i’m waking up in cold sweat
every little noise, i’m hoppin’ out the bed reachin’ for my tec (tec)
and i’m on the streets i’m very high on paranoia
looking for the neighborhood destroyas
i’d rather murder than be dead confused
celebratin’ my birthday in the news (uhh)
i drop tears for my dead homies
and did years tryna get my money
and pack a tec for you phonies
and did mines on my only
turnin’ motherf-ckers into rest in peace homies

[hook]

[verse 3]
(murder)
see, i’m a g from the block and when there’s funk it’s on (it’s on)
i’ll be the n-gga with a strap to your homies dome
headb-ttin’
crushing them bones
when that hk, buck ’em (buck buck buck buck)
sittin’ that -ss down
retaliatin’ be some out of state negroes (negroes)
decapitate and leavin’ afros in steel toes (steel toes)
some more, hard, core, k!llers (k!llers)
ballin’ dope dealers (dope dealers)
klu klux [?]
the real deal’ah
bailin’ your hood like thrillah
you’re either k!lla, or vacator get k!lled by the k!lla
now what do you prefer?
it’s best that you disperse
or be the next verse

[hook]

[verse 4]
now here come’ the big gangster
hoppin’ out the regal
pants saggin’, fat pockets eagle (fat pockets)
fifty cali style
stackin’ up g’s by the pound
sippin’ amaretto (amaretto)
packin’ a throwaway beretta
and been in it to win it since the beginnin’
so when i pose took the slugs with my .44 leaving’ n-ggas froze
it’s f-ck you ho’s in the mind of a psycho
kickin’ off rides when the lights go
i did my time on the cell block for sellin’ rocks
i’d rather let the cops sh-ll shock then get popped
so next time i’ll protect mine with my tec-9
havin’ wreck time
they can’t check mine

[hook]

[outro]
187 k!ller


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