DMX

DMX - Grand Finale (Murda Mix) lyrics

rate me

(feat. Ja Rule, Method Man, Nas, Vita)

[Vita]

If ain't rough, it ain't me

Tales of the darkside, grand finale

[Ja Rule]

Ready to die, cuz only I know where it's in

And if lie to dough, then it's kill in my soul

For my love and dough, don't make it no better

Mami, don't flirt wit the iron and hit 'em whoever

A nigga that flips the weather, any Rule, J-A

Fuck wit me, it's Murda, I-N-C

Feel her, nigga, feel a hole to meet

(if it ain't rough, it ain't me)

Holla at me, my real niggas, get down, ready to kill niggas

We don't touch no more, we kill niggas

Give me what it takes to throw my guns together

Fast up, hit 'em up, towards the hot beretta

You should know better, when obviously they don't

So the shit, sure to get you one in your throat

By the time, you realize that shot's the truth

It's too late, they reminiscin' over you, my Lord

[Method Man]

Watch them young guns that take none, nobody safe from

The Friday, the 13th, ghetto Jason

Itchy trigger finger achin', snatch your ass out that S-Class for fakin'

Forty four blast, it's a bloobath, take your first step down a thug path

Ain't no love here, just slugs here, kids know the half, you get plugged here

That's just impossile, for the weak to last, now behold the unstoppable

Third eye watchin' you, watchin' me

Throwin' rocks from the penalty box, cop a plea

Young g, we was born to die, don't cry for me

Just keep the heat closely, and ride for me

Cuz we family, for better or worse, you and I

From the dirt, you snatch purse, so hard it hurt

To be here, and each year, I'm pourin' out some beer

For deceased peers, holdin' fort

Police line, do not cross, they found his corpse

In the loft, wit the head cut off, and butt naked

Homicide, the crime method, add another

Killer verse to the murder record, the grand finale

[Nas]

Hot corners, cops wit warrants, every block is boring

Friday night, gettin' bent, lick a poem

My dog, not even home a month yet, and blaze a girl

in the stomach, he robbin niggaz who pumpin

Lil' Blood got popped, by the Group Home cat

Everybody nervous in the hood, pullin they gats

Fiend yellin out, who got those? Go and see

shorty snot-nosed, he don't floss but he got dough

Thug faces, fugitives runnin from court cases

Slugs shootin past for the love of drug paper

Queens cap peelers, soldiers, drug dealers

And God'll throw a beam of lightning down cause he feel us

May the next one, strike me down if I'm not the realest

The Mayor wanna call the SWAT team to come and kill us

but, dogs are friends, if one see the morgue, one'll live

to get revenge, and we ride to the end

Bravehearts blow the lye with Henn, and still rise

Took alive with live men, my man got three six-to-eighteen's

and only five in, the Belly of the beast Didn't wanna hear the shit

I tried to tell him on the streets

It's irrelevant, the beast love to eat black meat

And got us niggaz from the hood, hangin off his teeth

We slangin to eat, bringin the heat

Bulletholes, razor scars is the pain in the street, huh

[Chorus: Vita]

If it ain't rough, it aint' me

Down for dice, is what you told me

If it ain't rough, it ain't me

See, chick from the other side, grand finale

[Vita]

My dogs for life, call for life, now who be the job like fuck Totti

Slim weight, petite, body, down for my niggas, quick to pull a shotty

Sprayin' everybody, lacin' the whole party

Holdin' wall when my niggas hung, wit I rush

Like boys that I do know, it's me I trust

Now watch how I tie bust, guarantee I be sittin' down

Waitin' to hear up, wit the blast

Got you niggas snitchin' weed in my stash, high flow

Over the bitch who knows to stash weed

Cold for you bitches who try to oppose me

Hot Totti, same chick in Belly

Ooh, if it ain't it ain't me

[DMX]

Uhh, I've lost my grip on reality or so it would seem

Pinch myself to wake up, cause I KNOW it's a dream

Niggaz that don't know me see me and think I'ma rob em

Niggaz that know me well see me and think I'ma problem

I'm just a nigga that's misunderstood

But word to God I turn your last name to Underwood

Cause if I see it, I'ma take it and run with it, that's me

What type of bullshit is this nigga on? That's D

The dog come and getcha outside

The more blood flows, when I plug holes with the snub nosed

Gun blows, bullets whistle, wouldn't miss you

Hit you all up in your mouth like it tried to kiss you

Drama, it's right here, how MUCH YOU NEED?

Beat you down with gat see how MUCH YOU BLEED

How MUCH YOU PLEAD, for your life, you was a killer

And all the bitches comin up out that ass you feelin, gettin realer

Now beg for your life, one more time, one more crime

one more nine, c'mon cry nigga

It's over! This is the shit, that hits hard

You either the last one standing, or the last one to fall

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found