Fat Joe, Armageddon - Murder Rap lyrics

Uh oh, uh oh let's get it over with
Yo sound boy turn the levels up
Let's get it over with, UH!
Terror Squad up in this motherfucker
Where my real niggas at?
My Bronx niggas, my niggas
I see you Lil' Hat! Uh, Ahaha!
It's time to take it to
These niggas right here yeah yo yo
Who wanna spaz out? Crunchtime
Blow ya abs out
Leave you in the fetal position
Witcha ass out
Ready to mash out any crew actin like
They the true facts of life
Frontin through the camera lights
Despite, we hold it down regardless
I got Def Jam suckin me like
"I wish you was my artist"
For starters, who's the largest cat?
Get a hundred grand from my most garbage rap
Now how hard is that? Everything
We spit be hot
Whether it's live on Flex or in
Front of the chicken spot grimed out
We really live whatchu rhyme 'bout
See me posted up in the Tunnel
With my shines out
Ice cold like Alaska when I pass ya
Got girls shakin, losin they breath
As if they catchin asthma
Headed to the bar to pop some bottles
Now we in the car headed
Home to rock some models
All I hear in the background
Is Gucci and Prada
But, I'm tryna gas these bitches
To screw me for nada
We the best that done it, confess you fronted
Anybody wanna test how much straps
You want it?

Aiyyo the gangsta's back
Stop it right where you at
Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap
Tell them thug niggas, listen to that
Gotchu feelin it hard like Joe the
God's really bringin it back!

I'm from my days and legends
Since age eleven i was the cause of dope
Fiends catchin AIDS infections
Most of us are dead, but the rest is locked
Runnin in the rec room and check
Me out on the box a CEO could get optioned
Tryna change the channel
It's like tryna take the flesh outta
The mouth of hungry cannibals
Joe the God, the flow is hard
Known for packin two dozen
Birds like Noah's Ark
I'm the realest of 'em
Make you feel the pressure
Catch you at a club, smack you up
Steal ya leather
You niggas soften me, beat you out of the mix
Tough talk, tough walk
But, you cry like a bitch
I see you downin the Cris', I'm not hatin
I'm just aggrevated i ask myself every day
How these faggots made it?
Fuck around with the Don and get decapitated
I'm sick of hearin 'em for all
The cats that made it

Aiyyo the kid is back
Leave it right where you at
Let a real nigga hold that
You probably won't clap
Tell them thug niggas, move it on back
I'm feelin tight and I'm hot
Ready to pop the crack
Right through your back

That's how Kenny rocks
I'm more advanced than how your learnin
I'm like the force of space balance
And planets while they churnin
Poppin rosary beads
Piss on ya candle while it's burnin
Rush ya widows crib and pop
Ya baby while he's burpin
Now I know you can feel the heat I generate
Imagine when I penetrate ya stomach
And make ya body's center bake
We can argue for days
Whether it's faster to drop five shots
In ya astronaut before you
Cloud the stash box
Splash ya brains on ya birds' laps
Swerve you on the curb, crash the Range
And push the front skirt back
And murk after that, blurtin curse words
Yo I popped that nigga's son one
Before we catch the first
I'mma kill any murderer
Leave a nigga burpin up
Blood, chokin on chunks of his lung interior
Every verse that I spit's a personal riff
I mean a ill key frontin
I'm a murder you shit
Niggas play me while distrubin the Bricks
I'm like the feelin of the first time they
Ever held a bird in they grip
Motivator thug, scrape 'em
Shoot the bolts in his butt
Energizin 'em up, make 'em wanna open 'em up
Actin like I can't happen till I
Smack him in his Adam's apple
Death to rappin, I don't wanna battle
I'd rather rush your studio session
And shatter the booth clap at ya face
Give the mic feedback the goof