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Tytuł: Recipe 4 a murder

  • Wykonawca: Willie D
  • Wy¶wietleń: 291
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 Tupac 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