450 - Purge lyrics
Chorus Gad
[450 - Purge lyrics]
Tru Ambassador murder, murder
Murder, murder, murder, murder, murder
You use your fucking mouth too much
Now it's a grave it turn you
Aye murder, murder
Murder, murder, murder, murder, murder
You use your fucking mouth too much
now it's a grave it turn you
A week go by and all yah now
Your body still no turn up
Nah take no threat
You haffi dead from you make me nervous
Murder, murder
Murder, murder, murder pon mi mind
Nah wait another day, dem haffi dead tonight
Me load mi 9, "Pussy
A who fa friend you a try fi style?"
Man a murder
Bad people anthеm we no deal with nonsensе
Bere gun deh yah fi the man dem
Buss dem head and find song sing 'bout it
"How the fuck you feel?" Me fine, content
We love problem brand new AR with the pan
Dem sing like Sanchez, yeah
Race everything from outta the clip and
Then me change it like accent
Nuh haffI tell no lie, such man kill 'bout 25
Can't wait fi dem shub up dem head
Fi rest mi gun inna it
Obvious dem no love dem life
Nozzle pon the 'K ignite
Him see the don and piss him pants
"Pussy, you nuh have no pride?" ah
Murder, murder
Murder, murder, murder, murder, murder
You use your fucking mouth too much
Now it's a grave it turn you
Week go by and all yah now
Your body still no turn up
Nah take no threat
You haffi dead from you make me nervous
Murder, murder
Murder, murder, murder pon mi mind
Nah wait another day, dem haffi dead tonight
Me load mi 9, "Pussy
A who fa friend you a try fi style?"
A murder
Dem know no fi pass dem place
All dem a talk tough like dem brave
Man turn dem inna a fallen angel
Dem gon' know which gad dem praise
Can't escape 'cause me mark him face
My friend dem have the darkest ways eheh
Murder we murder people
No fuck with the artist's brain
Tell dem say, a the gad land
Born certified mad man
Car tint and have attraction
Hold the rifle horizontal
Murder dem fI make statement
Accuracy and placement
Use dem head paint the pavement
Syndicate, give dem bere lead
We nah save dem
A murder, murder
Murder, murder, murder, murder, murder
You use your fucking mouth too much
Now it's a grave it turn you
A week go by and all yah now
Your body still no turn up
Nah take no threat
You haffi dead from you make me nervous
Murder, murder
Murder, murder, murder pon mi mind
Yeah, dem haffi dead tonight ahh
Yeah, we run the streets
Suck your mother idiot
Yeah, we have some guns weh n'even
The chief of police got
Whole of dem a pussy
Dem only bad pon the media
But, if a one thing me know
Every pussy have weak spot
Kill dem fi we leisure a simple procedure
Pussy, we no need you
Syndicate, wha' you know? 'Til death hey!