[Intro: Free Murda] 

Yeah.. Free Murda, Brooklyn 

Uh-huh, what, check-two 

Uh-huh, mic check, three 

Uh-huh, check four, uh-huh 



[Free Murda:] 

Dude like phony in the rear 

Dude, put zoconi in his ear, stogey and a beer 

Looking all loney on the stairs 

How long he said, only for a year, pony for a pair 

Of sneakers, millimeter left homey in a stare 

Lick forty in the air, for your whoodies in the chair 

Blocka, for niggas getting fed all proper 

And I got shit locked like dreds on a rasta 

Get your shit rocked, like hands on my pasta 

Soon, I'm the dude, leave you dead for the doctors 

Put them tools in you, in the bed, singing opera 

Put the ooze in you, for that bread and your locker 



[Chorus: Free Murda] 

He don't wanna beef no more 

He ain't with his peeps no more 

He ain't with his heat no more 

Wonder why, he ain't in the street no more 

It'll make you scream... 

You know that thing, make a nigga scream... 

You know that thing, make a nigga scream... 

You know them things, make a nigga scream... 



[Free Murda:] 

Free put niggas straight out they misery, ape to your memory 

Behind a yellow tape is where ya'll men'll be 

Watch niggas shake like bitches titties be, watch 'em lose 

Weight like Ricki Lake, from like ten of these 

You tryin' to rule, you don't wanna do that there 

I ain't try'nna lose like Tyson when he chewed that ear 

Niggas fighting, but I'm shooting to tears, drip down 

Cheeks, get down, beef, see the fifth round, me? 

I ain't joking, I'm just hoping, you don't send a threat 

Nigga I'm toting, leave ya'll smoking like a cigarette 

It ain't a nigga yet, prove that I'm chump 

Any nigga bet, I'm hype, when I'm shooting that pump 

Get slumped, try'nna get it crunk, like Lil' Jon 

You get bucked out the rental car 

You can stand and stare like you want beef 

We can do this fair and square like front teeth 



[Chorus] 



[Free Murda:] 

Son played tough, that's how he had to get sniped 

I knew 'son day'll' come like it was Saturday night 

What goes around, comes around, so what you do when you get back 

I'mma be around, til I'm suited in jet black 

Hit rounds, til the ruger set back 

I'm aiming for ya crown, little shooters respect that 

Came to get it on, once that four's wrong 

Respect when your gun hot, but test it when it's warm 

Bang at your bird ass vest, to get it on 

Bang til your son at rep, move, then it's on 

Guess whose out here supplying the reefer 

And the only nine's he got is the size of sneakers 

I got cannons, the size of your speakers 

Look at shorty show his back, cuz school ties from the teacher 

Stop lying preacher, saying everything gon' be OK, must be high and lit up 



[Chorus]