Bizzy Bone-Chorus
Murdah is out of control
Murdah just let it blow (It blow)
Word up if you bucked a mothafucka down for taken ya dough
(Taken ya dough...) nigga

Bizzy Bone
Know this liquor prolly killin my liver
The villian is still in effect/ And I buck this
motherfucker down, live and direct/ Hey, what I'ma
chastise my momma? Demand the respect, get up and
strategize bitches cryin like they never wept/
Slept in the gutter with no tech, I'm still in the
dungeon/ Bitch I never left, pass that sticky icky
ganja/ Creep on ah come up, I crept and I came/
Respect the dead game, remember ta let ya nuts
hang, often, matter of fact I'ma do mine all day/
I don't sniff coke, I like to make money/ Put the
fiends in the room, who's hungry? Cut from the
cloth they cut me black cherry weed/ Cherokee
Indians based in Cleveland, thuggin and thievin
till I'm the last one breathin/ Only one believin
is that Seventh Sign Saga/ Fresh and remodeled,
plush like Ramada now, holy like Ramadan, a
momma's smile/ Capo, my nigga what/ Nigga
execution always my guns is crippin cuz, P.B.D.
posse/ I roll with Rasu, Nina Ross, and Skails,
Rhythm and Ghetto, Rosiah, 7th Sign murda em all,
yep...

And like little Capo-Confuscious say "Nigga
I'll kill for you."

Chorus

-Prince Rasu- Be careful as fuck, baby, take
precaution fo' sho'/ They say that nigga Gotti
quiet , better fire off a Calico/ Bastard, I'm a
animal/ My guradians was avenues/ My Lord be my
shepherd, but my swarms for collatoral/ Who can I
trust? Where can I turn? When will it all end? I'm
suited up in Timberland boots, Regime marchin' God
damnit I'm a grown man, its time to take my own
stand/ Fuck the federations, my heart is racin'
like grown mens/ Pumpin the anger built up from
years of stress, killers and haters surround me
daily, no fears of death/ I hear the breaths of
angels and demons fightin' over my soul/ Lord,
just give me the path through this bloodbath and
it's on, Lord/ Roll all haters, out my zone when
it's goin' down/ Ride with the 7th Sign/ Violate,
we gone clown/ Four pounds be safe in the streets
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/vnXof the showdown/ Love to Gambino, you the chief,
dog/This is my town, your town

Chorus

Josiah Rasu
Cock back and blast, knockin sparks up out they
ass/ Makin marks come off that cast, nigga you
know what it is, think I'm serious/ Then heart
attack, missles aimed straight at where the fuck
your heart is at/ Fix cement or get hit, how hard
is that, to comprehend, I'm tryin to be gone
before them souljahs come marchin in/ You blue
suit wearin faggets with badges'll get the flux, I
don't give a fuck who you are we can send this
motherfucker up/ Crucifixion come quickly come and
get me Mister Reeper/ I ain't scared to die/ I'm
all like more than willin, the more the real the
more that feel it, so I'ma stay real until my
heart stop/ My reflection with hoes, the essence
of the hard-knock life/ I am the light, and if you
miss us then u misses haven't heard of murder/
Then you don't know of pain, my veins bleed the
same blood of the motherfuckers who murdered my
momma so I'm a natural born killa/ Than I, there
was no cap peelas

Chorus

H.I.T.L.A.H. Capo-Confuscious
Me and my Comptons' monster mashin' mobsters/
Analyzin' we done plottin'/ Plans in progress; Rap
game held hostage/ Ransom, trillion dollars/ Low
tolerence/ Suspect; Armed and dangerous, violent
tendency's/ The industry stick up, Kingpin Capo
Regime/ Bend on your knees, duck tape and tied
down, follow my lead or everyone shot, bleed/
Squeeze round after round, empty shells hit ots
the ground/ Told you we ain't fuckin' around/
Strictly about our business on some gangsta shit,
no bank account/ Money talks, greedy hogs walk the
plank/ Negotiatin' our way, uh, forget the deal/
Your record labels' sorry but your phony ass
superstars carbon copied, indistiguished, no
identity/ Raise up off these N-U-T's, cock suckin'
nigga, please/ We ain't dealin' with no Jerry
Hellers, hell no/ Call us the money makers,
pullin' capers/ Baby momma need that paper/ Get up
off your ass, can't be no couch potato/ Only gets
greater later/ Better believe in playa haters, see

Chorus