[Black Child]
Word to god
Y'all know who the $#&@ this is

You know we would kidnap yo kidz
You know what the $#&@ we do
Murder (*##$ ^!$$%z like you

For real, all the time, any place, anywhere
Y'all ^!$$%z could get it
Act like y'all don't know

[rapping]
In a world that's ice cold, blacks die slowly
Cats snatch rollies, gats'll leave you holy

My momma always told me the streetz will slow me down
Daddy never showed me how the heat will hold me down
So now I rob and steal, spit %#@! you feal, wit a clique that kills

Yea my %#@!'s that real, I hustle hard all my life
Ran the streetz all night
My wife alwayz said everything was gonna be ait

And she was right and that's one reason why I love her
But everything she said went in one ear and out the other
Word to mother, look at it from a thug point of view

When the kids need clothes, what a thug gon do?
Hit the streetz and hustle, pick up the heat and bust you
I'm tryin to eat like Russel

Murda is my hustle But you keep chasin yestarday, you gon miss tomorow
It's murda mother$#&@er we don't beg or borrow
We take %#@!, $#&@ you and yo fake (*##$, when the eight (.8mm) spit

You could feel the hatred, taste it
You high right now, you ain't ready to die right now
The .45 will calm you down, you under trauma now

It's drama how a child will shut %#@! down
Kill a !@$@ for the $#&@ of it I get you touched for chips
$#&@ that %#@!, $#&@ the whip, and $#&@ you (*##$

YOU CAN JUST SUCK MY DICK

[Chorus] [ Black Child ]

If you chasin yestraday, you gon miss tomorow
It's murda mother$#&@er, we don't beg or borrow
We take %#@!, $#&@ you and yo fake (*##$

When the .8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it
It's your blood, when we show blood, we murderers (murdaraz)
We throw slugz, we huselazz (huselazz) we sell drugz

And tell thugz live it up till yo time stopz

[Tah Murda]

Yo I give a $#&@ if y'all ^!$$%z hate me
I drop bodies off where the lakes be
But lately, I've been hitin cribz

And safes where the cake be
I take three to the vest for the love of the dolla
I put that hot %#@! thru you and watch you Holla Holla

The same ^!$$%z that I ball wit I'ma brawl wit
I'm a tank running in banks and takinall of it
Player we're flawless, wit nutten to lose gunz bustin

And brossen !@$@z y'all can't live
Funny %#@! about it, !@$@s wanna hit me, forget about it
Thug %#@! I'm still livin y'all ^!$$%z just spit about it

I rob and stomp ^!$$%z 2/3rd of my life
The other 1/3 spent sittin on curbz chasin those birdz
If you ever get the urge to come by and try to test

There's only one and then you get numb and lied to rest
It's murda the only code to the ghetto
It's murda, ^!$$% hand me the bezzle

And dance with the devil, gunz rapidly spit
Gangsta %#@!, attractin yo (*##$, gettin head and lean back in the whip
I mastered the chipz, ^!$$% I'm tryin to tell you

You're holdin hammers and nails and
We have you where the dogz couldn't smell you


[Chorus] [ Black Child ]
If you chasin yestraday, you gon miss tomorow
It's murda mother$#&@er, we don't beg or borrow

We take %#@!, $#&@ you and yo fake (*##$
When the .8 spit you could feel the hatred, taste it
It's your blood, when we show blood, we murderers (murdaraz)

We throw slugz, we huselazz (huselazz) we sell drugz
And tell thugz live it up till yo time stopz

[Ja Rule]
Ja's a mutha$#&@in problem

Any ^!$$% think not, I'ma pop him
Put the lean on ^!$$%z the minute I spot em
Who's gettin it, I got him ^!$$% dead and gone
Gonna guide em to the cross roads show em how those gunz blow
I'ma degenerate ^!$$% addicted to hydro, switchin four lanes

Top down wit my eyes closed, got a death wish
Money, drugz, and murderer %#@!
What you want with this? We'll kidnap yo kids
And clap up yo crib, It's the MuRdErAz
Who you know wit gunz that kill %#@!

Just because we're them hot !@$@z
Sell mo records than Roc ^!$$%z
I'ma lock it down for six months and shock ^!$$%z
What's my name?
J the A R.U.L.E. with them hoez get between more sheetz than Isley

You can't deny me, I'm the mutha$#&@in one
Druggin (*##$es like Heron(!@(%)
The god be the Rule, if you're hot get bice and bice
On your jewel to cop a Benz
20 inch chrome, the shoes, I got nuttin to lose but everything to live for
Thoroughbread demand and supply the raw

I put my smash down from N.Y. to Chi-Town
INC Murder spittin in roundz
You don't wanna her how it soundz, When we @@#! them flames
It's Murda And ain't %#@! gon change
^!$$%z!!!