Murder Rate (feat. YungLiV, Zotiyac & Trapland Pat)

Your lil homie died, you ain't spin back The fuck you scared or something Them strikers on my ass I run up 20 and bought all the guns Address the situation while I'm off cets, I send it up Bodies keep on dropping back to back inside my city Cuz the wrong niggas got money Lil folks hot they aint no chilling Busting off the trips But I prefer the Wok, just cuz the feeling Caught him snoozing on his block off that and stamp the hit FN make his body twitch Almost got off until he tripped I let them shells eat on his face He get up close, make sure he hit Shawty run off like folks I know I got him when I blick I pit a name on everyone, these 556's in my clip We don't pop innocents, we come shoot who we looking for then dip I'm really bout mine but I'm really bout my business too, that's it I'm really 5'9 but it's really 556's in this clip You really fucked up, if you think you finna touch me in this bitch I put my hoe on him, he thought he would get lucky in this bitch Lil stupid ass (Dumbass) Aye, come here (Rah rah) Nigga keep on boosting on them, like what you tough or sum? Twirl the Wok, put the choppa on him like I'm cutting sum If I'm walking with my chain out, you know I'm tuckin' sum Why can't it be with a whole hundred on me? I ain't talking bout no money I'm talking bout the drum and the gun on the huff of your homie Then I summon a demon and put up on you, that be one of my homies That boy will shoot and score like Parker, I might call up Tony Boy put the money in the bag and get a bullet in your shit A risk for your life, boy you don't wanna take that risk Chopper knock your whole fucking arm off, take that wrist I caught him jumping out the window, nigga try to break that bitch Fast lane, I'm never cruising Tryna catch up with them losses Subtracting fuck niggas, gotta link up with the bosses FN go through the vest That how he got 3 to the chest We catch them bodies, nothing less Want peace? We lay your ass to rest Ooo Another R.I.P Shirt My dawg just dropped He need a percy cuz his teeth hurt Walk down with revolvers, leave no shells We call that neat work My mind been on them drills But I gotta rip these beats first Driller turned into a trapper Trapper turned into a rapper Rotating all 3, just to make that money come faster Must be off the guala, she ain't even see me shoot past her Sit my gun up bitch, just like my OP She gon' outlast her Your lil homie died, you ain't spin back The fuck you scared or something Them strikers on my ass I run up 20 and bought all the guns Address the situation while I'm off cets, I send it up Bodies keep on dropping back to back inside my city Cuz the wrong niggas got money Lil folks hot they aint no chilling Busting off the trips But I prefer the Wok, just cuz the feeling Caught him snoozing on his block off that and stamp the hit FN make his body twitch Almost got off until he tripped I let them shells eat on his face He get up close, make sure he hit Shawty run off like folks I know I got him when I blick I pit a name on everyone, these 556's in my clip We don't pop innocents, we come shoot who we looking for then dip