Murda murda, out the murda
30 slugs, comin' for ya
Rest in pieces, hallelujah
No ball, no court, we some shooters
Connected and locked in like they glued the puzzle
I'ma one five nigga but my clip hold double
How you livin' by the steel and yo barrel rusty
How you gon' protect yourself when these bullets rush you
Walking round with a stock, you just asking for trouble
Big choppa wet you up, that's my super soaker
How can I forget, growing up with roaches
How can I forget, to keep my hamma closest
What you totin' nigga? 4 nickel sub-compacted
Let him have it for his f*ckin' with the suckas habit
It's a round of applause, when this barrel clappin
Make his soul fly just like the rug from Aladdin
New drum cause I'm thuggin' out "a drum" spelled backwards
Niggas die everyday, what can I say? shit happens
He gon' fold like a napkin when his brains get splattered
The last thing he seen was that big flash, no camera
Never worked for Michael Bay, but seen plenty of action
In the streets like a addict, homicide rate adding
Cause it's either tote the plastic or get smothered for lacking
So I'm riding with the ratchet to avoid the casket
Unexpected funerals, with hella drama attached
Make his mama cry a river cause he ain't comin' back
That's another soul victim to that murda ave
Another coroner body baggin', out that murda ave
Leave yo whole block wet - now yo house like a island
Twin glocks making music - like the brothers Isley
When you finally quit the hiding - you gon' rest in silence
Hollow-tips gon' chew ya body - like some cinnamon trident
Rippin' through organs vital - it ain't no chance of survival
You either die or sentenced life - that's the hood nigga cycle
Use the pole like it's a scythe - to take the life up out him
The barrel bark and bullets bite - til ain't no recognizing
Ay why you tote that sewer pipe? - cause I'm from the gutta
Disrespect and you'll be laying in a burgundy puddle
Light a nigga face up - he ain't no halloween pumpkin
Death's the only thing that's promised so you can't out run it
Murda comin' cause I'm lurkin, clutching on my thunder
Murda close, a sucka soul about to soar above us
Murda near, you should pray to whoever you worship
Murda here, it got yo family crying out for justice
Never worked a garbage truck, but I'll pull up dumpin
From the C, not the ocean. Leave a f*ck nigga floatin
It's a chance you'll get smothered if you ain't gun totin
And I'm not trying to see a casket so it's always on me
Unexpected funerals what got the drama flowin
His mama crying so hard that her house got flooded
That's another soul victim to them murda ave corners
Another body bag filled, out the murda, by coroners
All that murda, out the murda
Trigger tugga, bullets touch ya
Catch a body, it's yo brother's
Put his face on a T-shirt with the air-brush
Wolf.M - Unexpected Funerals Lyrics
Wolf.M - Unexpected Funerals Lyrics
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Murda murda, out the murda
30 slugs, comin' for ya
Rest in pieces, hallelujah
No ball, no court, we some shooters
Connected and locked in like they glued the puzzle
I'ma one five nigga but my clip hold double
How you livin' by the steel and yo barrel rusty
How you gon' protect yourself when these bullets rush you
Walking round with a stock, you just asking for trouble
Big choppa wet you up, that's my super soaker
How can I forget, growing up with roaches
How can I forget, to keep my hamma closest
What you totin' nigga? 4 nickel sub-compacted
Let him have it for his f*ckin' with the suckas habit
It's a round of applause, when this barrel clappin
Make his soul fly just like the rug from Aladdin
New drum cause I'm thuggin' out "a drum" spelled backwards
Niggas die everyday, what can I say? shit happens
He gon' fold like a napkin when his brains get splattered
The last thing he seen was that big flash, no camera
Never worked for Michael Bay, but seen plenty of action
In the streets like a addict, homicide rate adding
Cause it's either tote the plastic or get smothered for lacking
So I'm riding with the ratchet to avoid the casket
Unexpected funerals, with hella drama attached
Make his mama cry a river cause he ain't comin' back
That's another soul victim to that murda ave
Another coroner body baggin', out that murda ave
Leave yo whole block wet - now yo house like a island
Twin glocks making music - like the brothers Isley
When you finally quit the hiding - you gon' rest in silence
Hollow-tips gon' chew ya body - like some cinnamon trident
Rippin' through organs vital - it ain't no chance of survival
You either die or sentenced life - that's the hood nigga cycle
Use the pole like it's a scythe - to take the life up out him
The barrel bark and bullets bite - til ain't no recognizing
Ay why you tote that sewer pipe? - cause I'm from the gutta
Disrespect and you'll be laying in a burgundy puddle
Light a nigga face up - he ain't no halloween pumpkin
Death's the only thing that's promised so you can't out run it
Murda comin' cause I'm lurkin, clutching on my thunder
Murda close, a sucka soul about to soar above us
Murda near, you should pray to whoever you worship
Murda here, it got yo family crying out for justice
Never worked a garbage truck, but I'll pull up dumpin
From the C, not the ocean. Leave a f*ck nigga floatin
It's a chance you'll get smothered if you ain't gun totin
And I'm not trying to see a casket so it's always on me
Unexpected funerals what got the drama flowin
His mama crying so hard that her house got flooded
That's another soul victim to them murda ave corners
Another body bag filled, out the murda, by coroners
All that murda, out the murda
Trigger tugga, bullets touch ya
Catch a body, it's yo brother's
Put his face on a T-shirt with the air-brush
30 slugs, comin' for ya
Rest in pieces, hallelujah
No ball, no court, we some shooters
Connected and locked in like they glued the puzzle
I'ma one five nigga but my clip hold double
How you livin' by the steel and yo barrel rusty
How you gon' protect yourself when these bullets rush you
Walking round with a stock, you just asking for trouble
Big choppa wet you up, that's my super soaker
How can I forget, growing up with roaches
How can I forget, to keep my hamma closest
What you totin' nigga? 4 nickel sub-compacted
Let him have it for his f*ckin' with the suckas habit
It's a round of applause, when this barrel clappin
Make his soul fly just like the rug from Aladdin
New drum cause I'm thuggin' out "a drum" spelled backwards
Niggas die everyday, what can I say? shit happens
He gon' fold like a napkin when his brains get splattered
The last thing he seen was that big flash, no camera
Never worked for Michael Bay, but seen plenty of action
In the streets like a addict, homicide rate adding
Cause it's either tote the plastic or get smothered for lacking
So I'm riding with the ratchet to avoid the casket
Unexpected funerals, with hella drama attached
Make his mama cry a river cause he ain't comin' back
That's another soul victim to that murda ave
Another coroner body baggin', out that murda ave
Leave yo whole block wet - now yo house like a island
Twin glocks making music - like the brothers Isley
When you finally quit the hiding - you gon' rest in silence
Hollow-tips gon' chew ya body - like some cinnamon trident
Rippin' through organs vital - it ain't no chance of survival
You either die or sentenced life - that's the hood nigga cycle
Use the pole like it's a scythe - to take the life up out him
The barrel bark and bullets bite - til ain't no recognizing
Ay why you tote that sewer pipe? - cause I'm from the gutta
Disrespect and you'll be laying in a burgundy puddle
Light a nigga face up - he ain't no halloween pumpkin
Death's the only thing that's promised so you can't out run it
Murda comin' cause I'm lurkin, clutching on my thunder
Murda close, a sucka soul about to soar above us
Murda near, you should pray to whoever you worship
Murda here, it got yo family crying out for justice
Never worked a garbage truck, but I'll pull up dumpin
From the C, not the ocean. Leave a f*ck nigga floatin
It's a chance you'll get smothered if you ain't gun totin
And I'm not trying to see a casket so it's always on me
Unexpected funerals what got the drama flowin
His mama crying so hard that her house got flooded
That's another soul victim to them murda ave corners
Another body bag filled, out the murda, by coroners
All that murda, out the murda
Trigger tugga, bullets touch ya
Catch a body, it's yo brother's
Put his face on a T-shirt with the air-brush
Writer: Jamai Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid