Fat Joe - Murder Rap (feat. Armageddon) Lyrics
feat. Armageddon)[Fat Joe]Uh-oh, uh-oh..Let's get it over with.Yo sound boy turn the levels upLet's get it over with, UH!Terror Squad up in this mother*****erWhere my real niggaz at?My Bronx niggaz, my (?) niggazI see you Lil' Hat! Uh, Ahaha!It's time to take it to these niggaz right hereYeah.. yo.. yo..Who wanna spaz out? Crunchtime, blow ya abs outLeave you in the fetal position, witcha ass outReady to mash out any crew actin likethey the true facts of life, frontin through the camera lightsDespite, we hold it down regardlessI 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 rapNow how hard is that? Everything we spit be hotWhether it's live on Flex or in front of the chicken spotGrimed out, we really live whatchu rhyme 'boutSee me posted up in the Tunnel, with my shines outIce cold like Alaska when I pass yaGot girls shakin, losin they breath, as if they catchin asthmaHeaded to the bar to pop some bottlesNow we in the car headed home to rock some modelsAll I hear in the background is Gucci and PradaBut I'm tryna gas these *****es to screw me for nadaWe the best that done it, confess you frontedAnybody wanna test how much straps, you want it?[Hook - Fat Joe]Aiyyo the gangsta's backStop it right where you atLet a real nigga rock real murderer rapTell them thug niggaz, listen to thatGotchu feelin it hard like Joe the God's really bringin it back![Fat Joe]I'm from my days and legends, since age elevenI was the cause of dope fiends catchin AIDS infectionsMost of us are dead, but the rest is lockedRunnin in the rec room and check me out on the boxA CEO could get optioned tryna change the channelIt's like tryna take the flesh outta the mouth of hungry cannibalsJoe the God, the flow is hardKnown for packin two dozen birds like Noah's ArkI'm the realest of 'em, make you feel the pressureCatch you at a club, smack you up, steal ya leatherYou niggaz soften me, beat you out of the mixTough talk, tough walk, but you cry like a *****I see you downin the Cris', I'm not hatin, I'm just aggrevatedI ask myself every day, how these faggots made it?***** around with the Don and get decapitatedI'm sick of hearin 'em (?) for all the cats that made it[Hook - Fat Joe][Hook 2 - Armageddon]Aiyyo the kid is backLeave it right where you atLet a real nigga hold that, you probably won't clapTell them thug niggaz, move it on backI'm feelin tight and I'm hotReady to pop the crack right through your back[Armageddon]That's how Kenny rocks, I'm more advanced than how your learninI'm like the force of space balance and planets while they churninPoppin rosary beads, piss on ya candle while it's burninRush ya widows crib and pop ya... bodies...Now I know you can feel the heat I generateImagine when I penetrate ya stomach, and make ya body's center bakeWe can argue for days, whether it's faster to drop five shotsin ya astronaut before you cloud the stash boxSplash ya brains on ya birds' lapsSwerve you on the curb, crash the Range, and push the front skirt backAnd murk after that, blurtin curse wordsYo I popped that nigga's son one before we catch the firstI'ma kill any murderer, leave a nigga burpin upBlood, chokin on chunks of his lung interiorEvery verse that I spit's a personal riffI meet a ill key frontin, I'm a murder you shitNiggaz play me while distrubin the BricksI'm like the feelin of the first time they ever held a bird in they gripMotivator thug, scrape 'em, shoot the bolts in his buttEnergizin 'em up, make 'em wanna open 'em upActin like I can't happen till I smack him in his Adam's appleDeath to rappin, I don't wanna battleI'd rather rush your studio session and shatter the boothClap at ya face, give the mic feedback the goof[Hook][Hook 2
