Murda Sound

I'll murk a bar and munch ya bars like a mars bar you half arsed like driving in the slow lane with your gramps car
Well it's the wanker, aka the Youthstar yeah thats right
I said a wanker coz I'm knocking off to brazzers
I got many a girl prego in my young age got a kid and got one on the way and I don't give a toss bout anything you say
Go suck your mum and make her cum man pussy holes like you get bun for fun then jump out of your skin and run son done
Call me the real don, top man ain't ya clocked on I sug-gest ya better jog on before I call my brethren Taiwan
Shit's about to get real in a second, fools will get beat in a second, 16 I hit with and drop em pop it off verbally kill 'em I get herbs and I deal 'em, not weed I mean cinamon, rob peeps for their living then buy green with the evidence
Call the po po ya joke hoe, ya just got jacked ya broke bro, stop lying to my face, Pinocchio
My life is rock n roll
Yeah, It's all just fun.
I spray the audience with champagne in water-guns. Pouring tones of rhum for the youngens in the front. Come to our after-party.
We nna get smashed and smash a hottie.
I'll jack your ma's Jaguar or your dad's Ferrari
and zig-zag down the block bumping Satriani.
Crash the car, laugh it off. Why should I care?
I'm high. When life gives me lemons I buy Weissbeer.
And when in Rome I roam around how I want.
No, I won't dumb it down because I'm down to be dumb. My label keeps begging me dude, when will the album be done? I tell 'em soon but spent the afternoon out in the sun.
Sucka!
My job ain't better than any other.
A petty rapper's fucking useless when compared to a plumber.
Who can do their daily duties puf ng Marijuana, wearing pyjamas, getting head from hotties whenever they wanna huh? Sheeit... I been sick, vision depicted and since failed
As a mischief sinner from snif n the sh scale
From the district realer than killers within jail
As I lick this swisher conditioned to inhale,
I'm a spit syllables with a criminal intel
While I sift through the literal driven thru this hell Glide a st thru the visible grinnin minister sinners who live as spiritual healers for miracle whip mail I'm a misused literate villain amidst stale Individuals wit predictable hit or miss fails
Just a little bit pale, mister liquor sip bail
To the inner strip with a thick licorice tail
Been a prick hailin from the syndicate rails
Where the feelin was similar to nger tip Braille,
I'm a little bit bitter wit a pistol grip sail,
Through the in nite richtor while I'm tippin this scale Biatch
We come murda dem yes we come kill dem Kill dem with the vocal slaughter dem lyrical Hold up yo hand dem let me see di hand dem Taitai bless di mic soundboy scatter like
Mice pon a satellite twice the speed of light
Dont believe the hype got to see me rockin it live like wow Nuff a dem a talk but dem nah know
Di whole a dem bad but dem no bad like we
Di whole a dem ruff but dem na ruff like we
Di whole a dem tuff but na tuff like we
None a dem dweet like we, me sing
Whole heap of styles we ing now
Dem jump out of the window
Drumpan soundboy you know your wife's soon a widow Now we know you're wack so you better step back
Lyrical shark attack a make a soundboy drop
Dem never di 1 tai man badbwoy when me spit rhymes Killaman pon di riddim and we dun dem at the same time We rollin' up a fat 1 high grade haf bun bun
Purple haze in the morning and we blazin til the sun gone No we never run son we walk & talk
Vibes outa me head we no skylark
Badman a come ina di dance and mash it up
Yes we mash it up until the very last drop



Credits
Writer(s): Pierre Scarland, Adrien Hicks, Davies James Morgan, Florian Billon, Casey Angelo Howard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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