Bos Flip, 2SG Tay - Murder Talk lyrics

(Markhoes, it's a motherfuckin' tag)
(Rare, is that you? Haha)
Damn, I'm tired as hell
I'm in the booth though
Got them, ayy, I'ma, ayy, it's the yeah
Motherfucker twenty ball

Ayy, why they play?
Ayy, told you, "If you play, you lay"
(Walk down)
Ayy, nigga, you was born a bitch so, nigga
You gon' die that way (Pussy)
Ayy, nigga try me like a bitch, old nigga
You gon' die today
And I know niggas out here snitchin' so
I just stay out the way (They tellin')
Ayy, we might slide today (No cap)
Make a mama cry today (No cap)
Ayy, niggas, they gon' hide
Today, we poppin' out, Outside today
(On my mama) ayy, they done let them members
In the door, bitch, Get up out my face
Yeah, I'm out my top
I dare a nigga get up out his place
A nigga get up out his place
We put his ass back there (Let's go)
Hit his ass, watch him fall, stand over
Keep hittin'
Teach you how to kill a nigga, nigga
This that murder business (This that talk)
Ayy, make sure when you hit a nigga
Keep on shootin' 'til the gun geekin'
(Let's go) vfft vfft, vfft vfft
Nigga this that fuckin' switchy
Baow baow, baow baow
That's that ARP with six (Baow, baow, baow)
Ayy, make sure that you put a scope on
Top so you don't do no missin'
And make sure that you overkill his
Ass until his body twitchin' (He fucked)
Ayy, hit his face so many times
They can't even recognize the nigga (Damn)
Shell catcher, thirty-eight
They won't even recognize who did it
(I'm gone) always be the suspect
I can't never go out like the victim (Nah)
Ayy, blind out his ass
He won't recognize what hit him
(Yeah, over)
Ayy, if I want you dead, nigga, you
Got up soon as I say, "Get him"
(No cap) rIPs poles, that nigga dead
They better be choppers with him (He gone)
Chopper sent his ass way so high
That nigga thought the helicopter sent him
(Yeah)
Sent that nigga ass so high to God and
Told him that the doctor sent him (Mop)

Told him the doctor sent him, but really
My chopper sent him
Smacked that nigga so hard with my blicky
He thought the box was hittin' him
Drop the racks on top his head, lil' bitch
I make his mama get him (Damn)
Try to swing in that lil' Honda
Keep on shootin' 'til the top go missin'
(Gone)
You can eat me, I'ma fuck lil' bitch
But we don't do no cuffin' (No)
Every nigga 'round me got a body, yeah
You know we livin' risky
See, you rap, paperwork, came back, yeah
That nigga bitchy
Got a new splat, it's a Scat
All-black sppinin' like a frisbee
(Let's go)