Recipe 4 a Murder

Verse 1: [Willie D] Motherfuckers are dying And getting buried in the cemetary Cause they ass couldn't pass the preliminaries That's when you mind your own Stay in line and keep the fuck out of mine Cause goddamn I ain't got it all This year I'm a fuck off a whole lot of y'all There was a body found in a lake Butt naked, wrapped in duct tape And the #1 suspect came from a broken home That ain't been fixed yet You got family, ah that's beautiful I want to see them at your goddamn funeral Along with your bitch and your friends Cause I'm a view the body, and pop your ass again No I'm not dick riding the chronic like the others I'm just the wrong motherfucker For a nigga to play with or say shit Behind my back, cause nigga that's gay shit I'll make a nigga drop his pants then buck him Throw him in the ditch and let the dope fiends fuck him I can't charge it to the game Cause the game never paid Willie D a goddamn thing I'm talking about a cold-blooded murder You never heard of a recipe for a murder Chorus: Lay your guns down You don't want to see me clown One shot to your dome Two shots, now you're gone (2x) Verse 2: [Sho] Niggas I'm smooth But watch me move on this groove About niggas getting they ass misused I'm a soldier, I don't start trouble see But somehow man the shit just find me Now take a nigga talking shit Better yet he talking shit to me Trying to impress one of his homies A front for a bitch that I done already fucked And to this day I can still get my dick sucked Mix that together with a hot ass club And that's a little dish called a nigga getting his ass drugged But my hands ain't enough I gotta schedule you a wait Give you two to the head for old times' sake So don't fuck with me and don't fuck with this clique Unless you ready to lay in front of a pulpit With your mama crying listening to some verses being read For you trying to catch lead with your head Did you hear what I said? I want to see some red, pronounce your punk ass dead Now you can beg, give me your dope and your bitch Suck my dick but it still won't change shit Because I hate motherfuckers who talk trash So don't let your mouth overload your ass But some still gonna flex And I'm a swing and connect And it's gonna feel like a train wreck I'm putting in work Fucking with Sho you'll be the quietest nigga in the church And if a bitch is in my mix then a nigga gotta hurt her Bitches die too my recipe for a murder [Willie D] My recipe for a murder is simple Fuck with Will and get one to your temple So pull your motherfucking guns And I'm a show you I'm the clean-up man in more ways than one You got a posse, a thick clique Cool, it makes it easier to hit me a bitch I want to see you piss on yourself And your eyes buck, for fucking with Wize Up Cause there's too many studio gangsters making noise Knowing that they're motherfucking choir boys I'm coming from the south I talk that talk, I walk that walk that fucks your ass off Niggas try to deal with it But got the fuck out of Dodge when they saw I was real with it So if you're talking shit about the Gulf Coast Suck a dead man's dick until you're comatose And if a cop want to blast, we can blast I'm a 2Pac Shakur his ass I'm talking about a cold blooded murder You never heard of a recipe for a murder Chorus (2x) Verse 3: [Willie D] Don't push me cause I'm close to the edge I'm trying not to lose my head, but dig this One nigga got got in the parking lot Cause his punk ass ran me hot Talking about he coming back With his boys and his gat But he ain't never coming back See when a motherfucker threaten Willie D I gotta fuck him off before he fuck off me The trigger finger ain't never nervous So unless you're sucking my dick, save the lip service I know a gang of motherfuckers who done passed For letting that mouth overload that ass It's a wreath from the goddamn forest Check out the motherfucking chorus Chorus (2x) Yeah, it's time for all you motherfuckers out there to wise up Cause we handle our business on the records and the streets Punk motherfuckers