Free Murder - F.r.e.e. Murda lyrics

rate me

[Intro: Free Murda]

Yeah, yeah, uh-huh

Fort Greene, Brooklyn, Bedstuy

F.R. Double E, Murda

Yeah.. Murda, check it...

[Free Murda:]

Check it, as I, step in the club

Coming to the stage like little Jay Jay

All my broads is nuts, like Payday

And when the song's up, they gots to pay me

The God's up, if you try to play me

You tighter than Von Dutch, now it's up to the AK

Shorty your God, in ya lap, you can go with him

Get 45 in ya Ac', like a cold Philly

Money, don't get it, honeys gold digging

Ain't try'nna look funny, pushing an old Civic

Bummy with no kid-icks, rather rob something

Then to be up early, going job hunting

Niggas act girly, want us be they broads fucking

Hair all curly, like the star functions

Is that yours? For surely, watch her start sucking

Drunk off them Bailey's, ready to start something

[Chrous: Free Murda]

F.R. Double E, Murda

F.R.E, Murda

Yea, that's me, word up

I know you hear that beat in the club

That R, Double E, Murda

F.R.E., Murda

Yea, that's me, word up

I know you hear that heat in the club

[Free Murda:]

Niggas need to cut it out, like Peter try to diesel

Same niggas down town tryin' on diesel

Head nodding to my beat, like he high off diesel

Slobbing down freaks, that combine when they need to

Tied the bitch, and put that in diesel

That be ruder, little make-up, don't make you no cuter

When I move, you move, like Luda

Try'nna get bruised up, in the club, off my buddha

So get out your way, shit, I don't pay

Feel the cushion, especially around the way

No cake mix, balling and no palm

Forming like Voltron, you know that's so wrong

See them tattoo's on my forearm, see, ya'll gon' do what?

Put ya all in white sheets like the Ku Klux

Ya'll ain't even see how I grouped up

With ShaCrizzy, Terra Tory, E-Money, ride with me

[Chorus]

[Free Murda:]

Soon as, I, step up out this spizzle

Hand on my nickel, raise a hand and I hit you

F.R.E., damn he the issue

Why he gon' die from the pistol tonight?

Cuz you know, niggas always try to give you a fight

And nobody's Lennox Lewis

My man's is shooters, ride around, shot ya Benz with Rubix

Ready to clap ya friend in his medula

Don't give the 411, like Grand Puba

Give it right there to you, loud as a band with a tuba

I'm tryin' to see, half a man in Aruba

Laid back, catching sun tans by the coolers

And get back rubs, but I ain't fucking with white chicks

Like the Wayan, all day with the black gloves

Roll me a fat dub, of that kush

While ya'll bitches bush bush

[Chorus]