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[Intro: Bizzy Bone] Murder is out of control Murder just let it blow Murder is out of control Word up if you done bucked a motherfucker down for taken ya dough Nigga, murder is out of control (control, control) Murder just let it blow (it blow, it blow) [Bizzy Bone] Though this liquor, probably 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? Or get up and strategize, bitches cryin like they never wept Slept in the gutter with no tec, 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 to let yo' 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 Cherokee, Indians based in Cleveland Thuggin and thievin 'til I'm the last one breathin Only one believin is that 7th 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 Crip'n Cuz, P.B.D. posse Honorable Rasu, Nina Ross, and Skails Rhythm and Ghetto, Ras' fire, 7th Sign murda 'em all Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah.. And like little Capo Confucious say, "Nigga I'll kill for you" [Chorus: Bizzy Bone] Murder is out of control Murder just let it blow (it blow) Word up if you done bucked a motherfucker down For taken ya dough... nigga Murder is out of control (control, control) Murder just let it blow (it blow, it blow) Word up if you done bucked a motherfucker down For taken ya dough (for takin ya dough) Nigga, murder is out of control [Prince Rasu] Be careful as fuck baby, take precaution fo' sho' They say that nigga Gotti quiet, better fire off a Calico Bastard, the animal, my guradians was avenues My Lord be my shepherd, but my swarms for collateral 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, time to take my own stand Fuck the federations, my heart is racin like romance 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 gon' clown Four pounds be safe in the streets of the showdown Love to Gambino, you the chief dawg, it's our town, yo' town [Chorus] [Josiah] 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, than a heart attack Missles aimed straight at where the fuck your heart is at Fixin it, or get hit, how hard is that To comprehend, I'm tryin to be gone before them soldiers, 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 Reaper I ain't scared to die, I'm all like more than willin The more the real the more they 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 and misses have never heard of murder Then you don't know of pain, my veins bleed the same blood Of the muh'fuckers who murdered my momma so I'm a natural born killa Than I, there was no cap peelers [Chorus] [Capo Confucious] Me and my Compton's monster mashin mobsters analyzin, we done plottin Plans in progress, rap game held hostage, ransom trillion dollars Low tolerence, suspect armed and dangerous, violent and deceive The industry, stick up kingpin, Capo Regime Bend on yo' knees, duck tape and tied down, follow my lead Or everyone shot bleed, squeeze round after round Empty shells hit hostile 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 Or forget the deal, your record label's sorry Bunch of phony-ass superstars carbon copied, indistiguished, no identity Raise up off these N-U-T's, cocksuckin 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 yo' ass, can't be no couch potato Only gets greater later, better believe in playa haters, see [Chorus] [Bizzy Bone] Murder is out of control...
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