50 Cent, Prodigy of Mobb Deep - Straight Murder lyrics
50 Cent [Curtis James Jackson III]
[50 Cent, Prodigy of Mobb Deep - Straight Murder lyrics]
Show these niggas what time it is, man ayo
Yo dunny, little bitch ass nigga
He shot up my car
Y'all little dirty muh'fuckers know
Who you are little snitch ass bastards
Bitch ass bastards i still be in your hood
Comin' through for mad years
Out in Brooklyn, I see your punk asses again
It'll be murder
I don't care who's looking that's right
Catch me right up in Sumner Vill'
Red Hook, Pink Houses and Queensbridge still
Can't nobody run me up out the hood (Nah)
I'm like the IKEA store
See me up in your hood
Whether I'm there for business
Or no business
Y'all idiots best mind your business
When my shots go off, they find they victims
Then I scratch names off the shit-list
When my shots go off, they find they victims
(Pow) then I scratch names of the shit-list
(Yeah, uh huh, yeah)
Straight murder, it be straight murder
Shoot me and I still live
And that's your ass
(Fuck you thought, man?)
We make homicide look like suicide
But that's murder, it be straight murder
The bullets you hit me with'll be your last
Straight murder, it be straight murder
Yeah (That's right, that's right, that's right)
I can't keep count of how many
Niggas I cut with my blade
Keloid across your face as
Thick as your braids
Nigga, it's hot in the hood
You can't walk with a gauge
Come outside with the pump
You'll be stuck in a cage
I took the hit and got up quick
Stuck in a rage
And my pain just poured through
A pen on a page wrong shit out your mouth
I'll put a hole in your fade
Then it's back-and-forth to court
Fighting the case i got extra money
My spots is pumping the bass
So if you can't rap, it's cool
I hit you with a eighth
They call me Hustle Man fam 'cause
I switch up my hustle
Get to sticking niggas up when
That coke don't bubble since a lil' nigga
I ain't been nothin' but trouble
It's easy to fuck up when you
Feel like nobody love ya
I keep telling y'all niggas that
I came up hard and I think like a nigga
In Sing-Sing on the yard
Yeah, straight murder, it be straight murder
Shoot me and I still live
And that's your ass
(Fuck you thought, man?)
We make homicide look like suicide
But that's murder, it be straight murder
The bullets you hit me with'll be your last
Straight murder, it be straight murder
(That's right, that's right)
When it's on, I beat the
Shit out of dead horses, keep killing 'em
You see us in them Porsches, we killing 'em
Rap music got problems 'cause
I'm starting shit
Anybody got problems with P can come get it
I'm not scared of you, I'm very available
You acting like you're so
Hard, I'm right here, dude
No guards, no bulletproof vest
Them shit's is too bogey and
They make me sweat
Fuck it, if it's time to go
It's time to go
Plus what's it gon' help when
They shooting for your head, yo?
Ain't no mission impossible
And ain't no man alive
Got that much strength
That he can't get touch, huh, you that sick
Ain't you?
And that quick, you turn into a thug angel
Huh, you that sick, ain't you?
And that quick, you turn into a thug angel
Straight murder, it be straight murder
Shoot me and I still live
And that's your ass
(Fuck you thought, man?)
We make homicide look like suicide
But that's murder, it be straight murder
(You heard, right?)
The bullets you hit me with'll be your last
Straight murder, it be straight murder
(That's right, that's right)
Yeah, straight murder, it be straight murder
Shoot me and I still live
And that's your ass
(Fuck you thought, man?)
We make homicide look like suicide
But that's murder, it be straight murder
(You heard, right?)
The bullets you hit me with'll be your last
Straight murder, it be straight murder
(That's right, that's right)