Styles P - Murda Mommy Lyrics

Rafael and RJ too,good lookin cuz
I got a little story to kick on this one
Ghost style

[Verse 1]
So Authentic
Sitting in a bullshit apartment that is rented and my soul's tormented
A big pile of coke,a grimy ass bitch I dont trust for a minute because her nose all in it
The shit's still for sell though, my man went to jail though
Left fifty birds,10 guns,weed and a scale yo
She hit me on my jack right
I was in the lab blowin' Ackright
In the booth tryna get my stacks right
She said come through, because dinner lookin' mad nice
She went to Shop-Rite and got the chicken for the half price
Im like this bitch dont cook, and me and her dont eat
So I know she sweet
Yeah her man went to jail I know he up shits creak
She got keys in the crib i'll get them off this week
So I hopped in the truck yo, blowin on the dutch yo
I know I shouldn't do it but I dont give a fuck though

If you fuck with a murda mommy
You gon' fuck around and have to murder mommy
I'll do her greasy like I never heard of mommy
? big poppa can deal with a murder mommy

[Verse 2]
She said they 12.5
I got 125 on me,I can buy 10 break em' down let em' dive on me
250 can get me twenty though
Shit ain't lookin funny though, a nigga need money though
Half a million can get me forty
Me and my little shorty can kick it like Barry Gordy
Soon as I thought it,heard a knock at the door
Pause,heard a lap cock at the door
That sounds like a Colt .45
Government issued,im thinking that I dont wanna die
My shit was on my side,pulled it out hit her in the eye
Gun buck,the dumb slut wanna die(bitch)
Door flew in,so did the mass dudes
Cash rules,fuck that we all gon' blast tools
They hit,she hit,im good some g shit
Left with the cash in the coat thats P shit


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