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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Caddillac Tah
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tiheem Crocker
Composer
Taiwan Green
Composer
Irving Lorenzo
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mr. Fingers
Producer
Irv Gotti
Producer
Lyrics
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Tah Murdah 2001 Murda I.N.C. motherfucker
Mr. Fingaz got beats
Gangsta, gangsta
Uhh, uhh, gangsta, gangsta
Murda, murda, gangsta, gangsta
Fuck y'all niggaz talkin' about?
Uhh, uhh, gangsta, gangsta
Uhh, uhh, uhh, yeah, this is how we do
Yeah, 2001
2001 nigga, check this shit
Now everybody just bounce, bounce
My Pov City hustlers, bounce, bounce
All my hood slimies, and Prada mamis
See how we fall off in the club, its nuttin' but love
Plenty bottles of skimy twisted and stick bud
And it fifty-fifty love, all across the board dog
Gully respect Gully never floss for broads
Or, get out of my character when she back it up
And after somethin' good performs, I'll have you get up on it
Ma, I'll give it how you want it, make you a new lady
Coke'll open her crazy, now all day she two way me
Type of shit like "Ohh baby", everything you do is gravy
And models I'm hittin' lately, so all you can do is hate me
Stare me down and screw face me, hype ya man up to lace me
C'mon, all y'all buttersoft, sweeter then tasties
My hands grip two hammers, double action
Prime time, nigga minus the actin'
Now get ya muthafuckin' hands up, high, touch the sky
And if you holdin' weight, nigga get it up
Mamis in the club lookin' right, oh you ain't spendin' the night?
Give her the pin number, mami hit me up
We can SkyTel tag until I get you in the back of the Jag
After we burn a bag, I'ma hit the guts
Oh you a baller? Then ball to this
My pimps, gangstas, and dogs I ain't mad at you player, play on
Now hear me holla out gangsta, gangsta
Paper chaser, I love the cake
And petit mamis with the coke bottle shape
So keep shakin' that money maker, ma-ma I can't hate ya
Its a cold world, ol' girl, so take advice from a pimp
What I'm spittin' is venomus ism listen
When the chrome rims glistenin', on the 'llac truck
Traffic get backed up, we in this, cloud of smoke from spinach
Niggaz ain't big enough to go some rounds or minutes
I'm heavyweight, and I ain't speakin' 'bout pounds in fitness
Use to spit off for sport but now its business
When you see me holla like you know me and I ain't scared homie
Picked up the mic, and put down the gats and yo
Now I rap and blow, with a fire acid flow
You know, and dog I ain't gotta repeat it
Right in front of ya eyes, ya see it, the best kept secret
Now get ya muthafuckin' hands up, high, touch the sky
And if you holdin' weight, nigga get it up
Mamis in the club lookin' right; oh you ain't spendin' the night?
Give her the pin number, mami hit me up
We can SkyTel tag until I get you in the back of the Jag
After we burn a bag, I'ma hit the guts
Oh you a baller? Then ball to this
My pimps, gangstas, and dogs I ain't mad at you player, play on
Now everybody just ride
If you sittin' on dubs, in that big body rollin' a bud
Then get high, uhh, get it crunk
Murda, gangster love
Now you know its only right and necessary
That I smash Freddy, after spittin' heavy, bars
Methaphors god, my shit is deadly
Swift and better believe, I'm focused now
Feed you to the vultures, murderous poster child
Click, clak, blaow, he pound sure to drop
Then catch me full of that hall or, blowin' on them poppers
But love, livin' and, love them, thug, women
Who will hustle and grind when its hard times
Playa, we came in this game with no gimmicks
You're finished, diminished ya frame get holes in it
Straight business and No Limits, like Master P
So if you bout that, scrilla my nilla then stack them cheese
And twist up, burn the vanilla dutch, we live it up
No bread, dick and Big Red we givin' sluts
I'm just a villian, willin' to kill for that pot of gold
You gotta know, it's all for the dough
Now get ya muthafuckin' hands up, high, touch the sky
And if you holdin' weight, nigga get it up
Mamis in the club lookin' right; oh you ain't spendin' the night?
Give her the pin number, mami hit me up
We can SkyTel tag until I get you in the back of the Jag
After we burn a bag, I'ma hit the guts
Oh you a baller? Then ball to this
My pimps, gangstas, and dogs I ain't mad
At you player, play on, play on
Yeah, its a playa event nigga
All my players ya heard me
Pov City nigga, yeah, uhh
Heart of the grungy, cheddar boys, mercy
Yeah, it's goin' down nigga
2001, murda, murda
Uh, uh, gangsta, gangsta
C-Life
Writer(s): Irving Lorenzo, Tiheem Crocker, Taiwan Green
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com