Lt. Ja tell it, that's murder inc boy's, that's real killers
Who gon' hold us of, 'cause you don't read newspaper's nigga
It's gun talk, niggaz better get used to it
The witness and the polla, weed twisting ganja
We gangster, gangster point and blank ya'
Money laundering, tax evade and drug dealers
Well fake niggaz try to cop the style, cop the 40 cal then
My forgiveness, niggaz can't be this stupid
The gauge is mine, that's all I know
The nine the cal the pound of coke, niggaz
With no introduction
Well bitch niggaz get you of the grind, nigga grab the nine and
And if there's more than one that got the gold, grab the calico
Keep it in them working, in case I'm legal searching
And life and death between a matter of inches
Real talk, the INC about to run New York
Got ducked taped, all tied up in their houses
And if there's more than one that got the gold, grab the calico
'Cause there's no real niggaz left to hold the torch
Well if you don't like the way it's going down, nigga grip the pounding
Damn, what so gangsta about these niggaz
Well if you don't like the way it's going down, nigga grip the pounding
I'll make you watch while I fuck the spouse
Load up the clip's and flip the corner
Nothing to fuck with, straight out of the gutter
And if there's more than one that got the gold, grab the calico
Married murder one, sleep with the fishes
Thank ya', niggaz keep me in the mood
When I holla you're the first to know
You know
And know these niggaz whoes guns got low mileage
Like capital game, reload and hit them with interest
They Morner, be mourners stay gunner
It's all about violence, real niggaz is silenced
Yeah, I don't care if you're a criminal or a cop, shoot or get shot
Well fake niggaz try to cop the style, cop the 40 cal then
Well if you don't like the way it's going down, nigga grip the pounding
We just niggaz getting money, fucking all the bitches
This tough load, the 3 8 o's, I let my hoe's hold
This ain't business, it's personal, gun talk
'Cause we done fucking these same bitches
How many hoes, and how much blood has been lost of
They got worship god, and trust the gun
Tasting red rum, young and corrupted
That fo' four that handle his business
Fucking stick niggaz up, these bitch niggaz touch
And if there's more than one that got the gold, grab the calico
Well fake niggaz try to cop the style, cop the 40 cal then
The gauge and the glock, and I keep a blade
Leave them dead over prayers, or head
Backed by chemical grit, you can't be serious
Well bitch niggaz get you of the grind, nigga grab the nine and
I ain't afraid if it pop, the gauge still a gun
Fuck sloths the swallow the fifth a holla
Well if you don't like the way it's going down, nigga grip the pounding
I've been doing this since 9 6, the oldies know
Ask for your forgiveness and send niggaz up
Well bitch niggaz get you of the grind, nigga grab the nine and
And you know they talk, and the pillows be my witness
Now I got the full speed niggaz, led
Murder INC
Yeah
The weed the dope the E' the coke, niggaz
To eat a nigga food, I murder with real bombs
I'm raised by the plot, product of the hater
Our role models is forced with the hollows
