Luyện nghe bài hát Its Murda ( Cable Guy Remix )

murda, ha ha ha
It's murda, we back up in this
It's

Y'all who we be
(Aiyyo don't let me catch ya runnin' from the back of BET nigga)
My nigga Fatal on tha muthafuckin' ones and
Holla back you bitch ass

Yo, cocksucka', I get and post and cocked tha nina'
In tha five Beamer, dump and lean ya
I fell off on a misdemeanor, ride red over madina's
Take crazy for

Hated like Jesus
My always been bad bitches and new bills with creases
My thesis more than
And that nigga that got shot nine

Can tell ya I don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck
God may I ask yo' to take his life
This is man be I N C to R U L E extraordinary, one for tha ages

When done sawed off tha front of them gauges
To in combat, to send you and fem where yo mom's at
Motherfucka you that?
And I talkin' about them heavenly skies
I'm talkin' fire from

Or maybe the fifty cal 'cause you like
Or maybe in Cal where you like to lay low
You made, and I heard about that bitch
You be slayin' layin' up with, some off of Sunset

Y'all haven't heard yet that nigga is loose
And I got proof, get it? I got
Yo vest is no use when we and flame
It's Murda, murda

It's Murda,
Hussein nigga
Murda, muthafuckas

Rule these niggas crazy, reppin' him me
A.I ain't in tha click, believe they win without me
Yo, I'm lil' homies, frail but bold
Went from base to bullshit like Jalen Rose

Got my blind D O G's readin' brail and
Keep tha heat in tha winter I can't tell cold
Clean my set, out flame tha tec
Throw niggas catch like Wayne Cherbet

Son of a gangsta, talk son I'm a bang ya
I'm tha truth with tha ox, keep gum on tha
Hussein, the only reason chase tha thugs
Blade Part Two I got tha taste for blood

Log on Fatal.com, see fatal bombs
More militant then y'all faded with 'Pac rhymes
Clutching tha stick beam, suckin' tha green
Out tha window or tha sunroof, tha sixteen

You ain't a gangsta 'em, this is gangsta
And 50 you ain't nuthin' but a bitch
would have never did no song with no wanksta snitch
He confusin' y'all he tha shit

We sex, money and murda you
Ain't no around with this rap shit
Banana clip, mack's spit wrapped in plastic
This tha city where tha niggas die no
You my dogs this is tha city where tha skinny niggas ride nigga

Plat, tha don
Believe we got this poppin' in this muthafucka
Rule good
And we into tha muthafuckin' club you punk walkin' out
Brick city, Rule, Rap-alot-mafia,
Yound D', Merc,

These niggas ain't ready for this gangsta shit here
We been doing this shit for a time
Y'all niggas got the streets nigga
We been on this thug shit

Bitch ass niggas you know it is
time we touch tha muthafuckin' booth nigga
It's be fire, fire on you niggas' asses
better gracefully bow tha fuck out nigga

Hussein nigga, Rap-alot-mafia, nigga
M.I.B. nigga, Inc bosses
Rule we baby, Brick City Jerseys
Yeah, let's get it