Ja Rule

Ja Rule

  •  Name Ja Rule
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  • Ja Rule Murderers Lyrics

           

    [Black Child]
    Uh huh, we did it
    Motherfucker
    Somebody gotta do it
    It gotta get done, why not get it done with the gun?
    Word to god
    Yo yo yo

    Chorus: Ja Rule

    Murder'a, inside must be hollow
    Kill us today or you'll have to kill us tomorrow
    Murder'a, inside must be shallow
    How does it feel to take a life of anotha
    Murder'a, inside must be hollow
    Kill us today or you'll have to kill us tomorrow
    Murder'a, inside must be shallow
    How does it feel to take a life...

    [Black Child]
    It's murda and its not a game
    Y'all *Silence* gonna feel the flames and a lotta pain
    Let me explain from day one its murda one with no gun
    Taking income, makin bitch niggas run
    The nine-one-one roll up nigga what
    We got the four pund tucked, the Porsche look plush
    Niggas get fuckin clapped and killed for flossin
    That probly why niggas get killed so often
    Nothin to live for type a nigga I did a bid for
    Snitch bitch niggas that ain't built for war
    Is it because we ain't got no love for thugs
    And slugs for drugs, the worlds most murda'rous
    Black Child, nigga you know how the fuck I do
    Put two in you, then puff a blunt at your funeral
    I might touch yo' click and fuck yo' bitch
    But'choo never heard a nigga spit shit like this

    Chours

    [Tah Murdah]
    When I'm gunnin I'm coming on ??? shit rubber grip
    Four shit on the sawed off, blowin the doors off the Range Rov' shit
    Fo' sho' this, is somethin' we die for
    And my murdera's I lie and fry for
    Murda man, when the shit hit the fan
    The plan formulate, for instance, fuck a percentage you need the all the cake
    Put the four to snakes make 'em lay for raw
    Fuck the game, 'cuz nigga I don't play no more
    Size 'em up, nevermind if you ridin tough
    Count 'em out 'til his eyes is puff, despising us
    I got hungry thugs that'll tie you up
    And they ain't got a problem with, snub nose revolver shit
    We hard to hit, my mom's a Crip
    We thristy niggas that'll rob ya bitch for the love of the chips
    So when I'm soaking the whip, y'all niggas keep hatin'
    Gotta stash where the heats placed in, paper I keep chasin
    Motherfucker, uh uh

    Chorus

    [Ja Rule]
    Yo, yo...
    Forever young this face kills so many all die, nigga must I?
    Confess my sins, to the souls of the unknown, why?
    Would you ever disrespect my niggas
    We murderous engines that lead to lynchin's
    Index, itching, ready to run up and hit 'em
    Let the teflon spin 'em, they say "look how Ja did 'em"
    I a murder'a , Inc'ed and blood you know you heard of us
    Murderers juts because we the shhhhhhh
    Make a nigga much harder to hit with the ox
    We can take it back, give me five minutes in the box
    Or trade hot rocks 'til one of us drops
    Nothin but shells and you can hear the shot for blocks
    I'm giving 'em hell, while niggas steady hollerin' "stop"
    I spit sixteens with aim and continue to pop
    Motherfuckers, what'choo want with this shit
    The murderous I-N-C, nigga

    Chorus

    MURDER'A

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