Murda Shxt

[Verse 1: Young Wicked]
Yeah
Everybody wanna question the motive like they don't know about Otis
Like they don't know that I will grab the .44 and unload it
Like they don't realize I bleed out all this twisted emotion
And I get sick and devoted to living darker than lotus
And I may fuck up everybody getting close to me homie
Because my vision won't focus so I be slinging the dough and the fucking elbows
Rip a bitch apart like velcro
Old-school like a three-striped shell toe
No fools, just me and my fellows
I'mma give 'em hell bro
Until The Seventy is shown, no Kelso
Hit me on a cellphone
Faces I'mma melt son
Number one contended 'til I went and put the belt on
I be sending angels back to heaven where they fell from
And I'm with all the static
I've been in command
And can feel like I invented the Xanax and Percocet addicts
And then there nothing special about it
Developing habits to leave you feeling hopeless without it and fuck up your medicine
See ye ain't really need that
Tell me where the tree at
I've been going half on the weed sack
Uh
Ever since I was a wee lad
Coming from the 3-0-3 that Denver, Colorado where you bleed at
Fucking with the Gs that's sitting like a fucking A.M.B. track
You're a fucking D-bag
You ain't really G, that's all a fucking lie bro
You're a fucking B-rad asking where the piece at
Fuck it, I bring that ruckus
Only fine hoes
Fuckers in my line goes nutty
I'm in grind mode buddy
You could die no looky
If I ride you ducking
When I find 'em I'mma crush 'em let's go

[Chorus: Young Wicked]
This that axe murda shit, yeah
Got the, Got the, got the gas for the clique, yeah
I'm on, I'm on, I'm on Smash with a bitch, yeah
Do that, Do that, do that dance on that bitch, yeah
This that murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
This that murda, murda, murda shit
This that murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
This that murda, murda, murda shit

[Verse 2: Bonez Dubbs]
It's a murder motherfucker and I'm back
B-O-N-E-Z I'm coming for your neck
Like I'm Martin, better run, tell that
Smoking ooh-wee so you better fucking respect
Rapper rag around my face, can't see me
Cause I'm 'bout to rob your whole families-e
Got the whole clique ready in the Lac
Steady smoking on a bleezy
Come a little wheezier
Fuck what you heard, flying high like a bird
Take a bitch, but I might though
Fucking put that on the Bible
Fuck 'em up like Kylo when he be taking on a Sith
Never been a bitch like you
What you gonna do that's nothing
All I ever wanna do is smoke on something
I'm that motherfucker got the cops all running away
And I take 'em out no-scope no joke
And I'm ready for whatever
Cause I know that you ain't shit and I'm a hundred times better
That's what she said
Thinking with the head and you know I don't waste no time
Cut it up at the fucking drop of a dime
And there be murder on my motherfucking mind all the time like

[Chorus: Young Wicked]
This that axe murda shit, yeah
Got the, Got the, got the gas for the clique, yeah
I'm on, I'm on, I'm on Smash with a bitch, yeah
Do that, Do that, do that dance on that bitch, yeah
This that murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
This that murda, murda, murda shit
This that murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
This that murda, murda, murda shit

[Outro: Young Wicked]
Murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
Murda, murda, murda shit
Murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
Murda shit, murda shit