ja-rule talkin'/yellin': these faggot a$$ n*ggas, ay yo buck, word to mutha yo they had young malcolm silenced too long baby!!! they can't fuckin' hold me down nigguh!!! tha fuck these n*ggas thought?! it's tha i-n-c n*ggas, it's murda. m.i.b. n*gga. murda inc boss! muthafuckas! ja-rule. (laughs) ayo buck. turn this shit up in my muthafuckin' head phones. turn me up n*ggas. fuck these faggats. (laughs) it's real n*gga. yeah, it's real. ayo word ta motha- f*ck you loose change!!! you faggot!!! feminem ima set you straight, you b!tch!!!
how many n*ggas holdin' heat like rule? side arm, barrel in mouth blow ya head out from tha south & then if little j get ta airin' you out & if there's any change, left, i'll toss ya on down ta tha west & let tha row ride down on ya, ka-lee-fawn-nya(very 2pac-est) 'love is whut you craved' shown on your grave it's gon' read, hear lies 50, who snitched on meinie that half a dollar that nickled & dimed & dapped like penny & murda inc. will send their deepest condolences & sympathies to aftermath & shady, interscope & jimmy iovine, ya know, your team, they really some pee ons gettin' peed on & leant on. i'm talkin' 'bout faggot ass gay dre young & she tooold me-all about how you used to take transvestites home & occasionally wear thongs no wonder feminem be cross dressin' in pumps & tight little dresses my pumps they leave big messes & i know tha truth hurts when i bus' weapons betta love tha sexes is that a woman or a man, i really don't care to stand but 50, you gon' get shot again by the m-u-r-d-r-e inc. (-- not a typo) i'm tha rappa that sings, totes guns & blings & these feds? can't discuss it. just like these violatin'as usin' these [someone soundin' like irv yells all ova ja's vocals w/ a "fuck you lighty!"] cryin' b!tch to russel like
[beat changes to "made you look"by nas]
'they shootin!' ah chris you shook & got bust rhymin' tha same old hook like 'they shootin'!' i ain't shoot up ya land i oughta put ya in tha corona van like my nigga jay ta *mwaa* [can't make it out] we should be together like carl when i clap at ya broads & em whut's tha doo rag for? you neva gon' have waves, you neva gon' know Black pain but you gon' be tha 1st white rappa slain just get your money mayne tha inc. is runnin' thangs, hide out with loose change & you nigga, ahm a send you to mommie ya strict, notice from gotti to hide tha body & dre, ya day's commin' too. 'cause i got a team of misfits who squat & handle they business cuz, ahm shootin! at all ya niggas & little mo', yu just one of them bitches that ain't had a hot song in how long? neva your betta off with a d!ck in ya mouth. shut up! em, ya claim ya mutha's a crack head & kim is a known slut so whut's halie gon' be when she grows up?
murrrr-daaaaa!! y'all know whut it is?! murrrr-daaaaa!! y'all know whut it be?! murrrr-daaaaa!! y'all know whut it is?! murrrr-daaaaa!! i-n-c
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ja-rule talkin'/yellin': these faggot a$$ n*ggas, ay yo buck, word to mutha yo they had young malcolm silenced too long baby!!! they can't fuckin' hold me down nigguh!!! tha fuck these n*ggas thought?! it's tha i-n-c n*ggas, it's murda. m.i.b. n*gga. murda inc boss! muthafuckas! ja-rule. (laughs) ayo buck. turn this shit up in my muthafuckin' head phones. turn me up n*ggas. fuck these faggats. (laughs) it's real n*gga. yeah, it's real. ayo word ta motha- f*ck you loose change!!! you faggot!!! feminem ima set you straight, you b!tch!!!
how many n*ggas holdin' heat like rule? side arm, barrel in mouth blow ya head out from tha south & then if little j get ta airin' you out & if there's any change, left, i'll toss ya on down ta tha west & let tha row ride down on ya, ka-lee-fawn-nya(very 2pac-est) 'love is whut you craved' shown on your grave it's gon' read, hear lies 50, who snitched on meinie that half a dollar that nickled & dimed & dapped like penny & murda inc. will send their deepest condolences & sympathies to aftermath & shady, interscope & jimmy iovine, ya know, your team, they really some pee ons gettin' peed on & leant on. i'm talkin' 'bout faggot ass gay dre young & she tooold me-all about how you used to take transvestites home & occasionally wear thongs no wonder feminem be cross dressin' in pumps & tight little dresses my pumps they leave big messes & i know tha truth hurts when i bus' weapons betta love tha sexes is that a woman or a man, i really don't care to stand but 50, you gon' get shot again by the m-u-r-d-r-e inc. (-- not a typo) i'm tha rappa that sings, totes guns & blings & these feds? can't discuss it. just like these violatin'as usin' these [someone soundin' like irv yells all ova ja's vocals w/ a "fuck you lighty!"] cryin' b!tch to russel like
[beat changes to "made you look"by nas]
'they shootin!' ah chris you shook & got bust rhymin' tha same old hook like 'they shootin'!' i ain't shoot up ya land i oughta put ya in tha corona van like my nigga jay ta *mwaa* [can't make it out] we should be together like carl when i clap at ya broads & em whut's tha doo rag for? you neva gon' have waves, you neva gon' know Black pain but you gon' be tha 1st white rappa slain just get your money mayne tha inc. is runnin' thangs, hide out with loose change & you nigga, ahm a send you to mommie ya strict, notice from gotti to hide tha body & dre, ya day's commin' too. 'cause i got a team of misfits who squat & handle they business cuz, ahm shootin! at all ya niggas & little mo', yu just one of them bitches that ain't had a hot song in how long? neva your betta off with a d!ck in ya mouth. shut up! em, ya claim ya mutha's a crack head & kim is a known slut so whut's halie gon' be when she grows up?
murrrr-daaaaa!! y'all know whut it is?! murrrr-daaaaa!! y'all know whut it be?! murrrr-daaaaa!! y'all know whut it is?! murrrr-daaaaa!! i-n-c
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