Murdah
    (专辑: Alpha And Omega - 2004)
    
    [Bizzy Bone-Chorus]  Murdah is out of control/ Murdah just let it blow (It blow)/ Word up if you bucked a 
mothafucka down for taken ya dough (Taken ya dough...) nigga   [Bizzy Bone]  Know this liquor prolly killin my liver/ The 
villian is still in effect/ And I 
buck this motherfucker down, live and direct/ Hey, what I'ma chastise my  momma? Demand the 
respect, get up and strategize bitches cryin like they never wept/ Slept in the 
gutter with no tech, I'm still in the 
dungeon/ Bitch I 
 never left, pass that sticky icky ganja/ Creep on ah come up, I 
crept and I 
came/ Respect the 
dead game, remember ta let ya nuts hang, often, matter of  fact I'ma do mine all day/ I 
don't sniff coke, I 
like to make money/ Put the 
fiends in the 
room, who's hungry? Cut from the 
cloth they cut me black cherry  weed/ Cherokee Indians based in Cleveland, thuggin and thievin till I'm the 
last one breathin/ Only one believin is that Seventh Sign Saga/ Fresh and  remodeled, plush like Ramada now, holy like Ramadan, a 
momma's smile/ Capo, my nigga what/ Nigga execution always my guns is crippin cuz, P.B.D. posse/ I 
 roll with Rasu, Nina Ross, and Skails, Rhythm and Ghetto, Rosiah, 7th Sign murda em all, yep...   And like little Capo-Confuscious say "Nigga I'll kill for you."   [Chorus]   -Prince Rasu  Be careful as fuck, baby, take precaution fo' sho'/ They say that nigga Gotti quiet , 
better fire off a 
Calico/ Bastard, I'm a 
animal/ My guradians was  avenues/ My Lord be my shepherd, but my swarms for collatoral/ Who can I 
trust? Where can I 
turn? When will it all end? I'm suited up in Timberland boots,  Regime marching God damnit I'm a 
grown man, its time to take my own stand/ Fuck the 
federations, my heart is racing like grown mens/ Pumpin the 
anger  built up from years of stress, killers and haters surround me daily, no fears of death/ I 
hear the 
breaths of angels and demons fighting over my soul/  Lord, just give me the 
path through this bloodbath and it's on, Lord/ Roll all haters, out my zone when it's going down/ Ride with the 
7th Sign/ Violate,  we gone clown/ Four pounds be safe in the 
streets of the 
showdown/ Love to Gambino, you the 
chief, dog/This is my town, your town   [Chorus]   [Josiah Rasu]  Cock back and blast, knockin sparks up out they ass/ Makin marks come off that cast, nigga you know what it is, think I'm serious/ Then heart attack,  missles aimed straight at where the 
fuck your heart is at/ Fix cement or get hit, how hard is that, to comprehend, I'm tryin to be gone before them  souljahs come marchin in/ You blue suit wearin faggets with badges'll get the 
flux, I 
don't give a 
fuck who you are we can send this motherfucker up/  Crucifixion come quickly come and get me Mister Reeper/ I 
ain't scared to die/ I'm all like more than willin, the 
more the 
real the 
more that feel it, so  I'ma stay real until my heart stop/ My reflection with hoes, the 
essence of the 
hard-knock life/ I 
am the 
light, and if you miss us then u 
misses haven't  heard of murder/ Then you don't know of pain, my veins bleed the 
same blood of the 
motherfuckers who murdered my momma so I'm a 
natural born killa/ Than  I, there was no cap peelas   [Chorus]   [H.I.T.L.A.H. Capo-Confuscious]  Me and my Comptons' monster mashing mobsters/ Analyzing we done plottin'/ Plans in progress; Rap game held hostage/ Ransom, trillion dollars/ Low  tolerence/ Suspect; Armed and dangerous, violent tendency's/ The 
industry stick up, Kingpin Capo Regime/ Bend on your knees, duck tape and tied down,  follow my lead or everyone shot, bleed/ Squeeze round after round, empty shells hit ots the 
ground/ Told you we ain't fucking around/ Strictly about our  business on some gangsta shit, no bank account/ Money talks, greedy hogs walk the 
plank/ Negotiating our way, uh, forget the 
deal/ Your record labels'  sorry but your phony ass superstars carbon copied, indistiguished, no identity/ Raise up off these N-U-T's, cock sucking nigga, please/ We ain't dealing  with no Jerry Hellers, hell no/ Call us the 
money makers, pulling capers/ Baby momma need that paper/ Get up off your ass, can't be no couch potato/ Only  gets greater later/ Better believe in playa haters, see   [Chorus]