Paroles de Murda Barz de DJ OP, Styles P, Young Buck, Uncle Murda

Tell 'em that I'm riding again
Shoot a nigga's cars,
Don't make me hit the hydrant again
Everyday I wake up, it's like
I'm live on the sand smoke
Hayz and bubbling paper, swallowing gin
Everywhere I go, dirty nigga follow me in
I'm back in the truck, I'm yapping the cup
Drunk enough to fuck around and shoot the passenger up
Couple of niggas follow on bikes,
They hollow the pipes, they slide off
I put your brain fiest, swallow the knife
I say lil' nigga, play your position,
I ain't gonna book you, your momma would
When I'mma come through the kitchen
And you know you are nearer to Don OP
I'm nailing the bricks
Day deal, I got the deal with the concrete
Need a connector in Long Beach
A shooter in New York
I need good weed within arm reach
Know that they act like they ride y all
Whenever it's my call
Tell on niggas, they shot out their eyeballs
Gotta stay true to the reaper, these niggas is ants
I'ma blast like the studio flickers
I preserve dope from the federal reserve
Ask a ghost, man, you deserve host
Two guns up, it's the three guns up
I say die for my niggas is the four word oath
Rather dying D-Block, nigga, I do that too

Got tens in the p.m. in Brooklyn
Lookin' for some Dominican niggas, they be cookin'
I pushing through these barrels followed
By two Camaros, Mac90 beside me,
With the airwholes
Grinding bitches on the tape too
Don't wet clothes
Set a nigga up just to get something up in their nose
All my niggas sell O's and roll cygarellos
Rich country niggas with some ash elbows
Dropped a hundred bricks with some cakeds and some chateaus


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