Murder Rate (feat. YungLiV, Zotiyac & Trapland Pat)

Your lil homie died, you ain't spin back
The fuck you scared or something
Them strikers on my ass
I run up 20 and bought all the guns
Address the situation while I'm off cets, I send it up
Bodies keep on dropping back to back inside my city
Cuz the wrong niggas got money
Lil folks hot they aint no chilling
Busting off the trips
But I prefer the Wok, just cuz the feeling
Caught him snoozing on his block off that and stamp the hit
FN make his body twitch
Almost got off until he tripped
I let them shells eat on his face
He get up close, make sure he hit
Shawty run off like folks
I know I got him when I blick
I pit a name on everyone, these 556's in my clip
We don't pop innocents, we come shoot who we looking for then dip

I'm really bout mine but I'm really bout my business too, that's it
I'm really 5'9 but it's really 556's in this clip
You really fucked up, if you think you finna touch me in this bitch
I put my hoe on him, he thought he would get lucky in this bitch
Lil stupid ass (Dumbass)
Aye, come here (Rah rah)
Nigga keep on boosting on them, like what you tough or sum?
Twirl the Wok, put the choppa on him like I'm cutting sum
If I'm walking with my chain out, you know I'm tuckin' sum
Why can't it be with a whole hundred on me?
I ain't talking bout no money
I'm talking bout the drum and the gun on the huff of your homie
Then I summon a demon and put up on you, that be one of my homies
That boy will shoot and score like Parker, I might call up Tony
Boy put the money in the bag and get a bullet in your shit
A risk for your life, boy you don't wanna take that risk
Chopper knock your whole fucking arm off, take that wrist
I caught him jumping out the window, nigga try to break that bitch

Fast lane, I'm never cruising
Tryna catch up with them losses
Subtracting fuck niggas, gotta link up with the bosses
FN go through the vest
That how he got 3 to the chest
We catch them bodies, nothing less
Want peace? We lay your ass to rest
Ooo
Another R.I.P Shirt
My dawg just dropped
He need a percy cuz his teeth hurt
Walk down with revolvers, leave no shells
We call that neat work
My mind been on them drills
But I gotta rip these beats first
Driller turned into a trapper
Trapper turned into a rapper
Rotating all 3, just to make that money come faster
Must be off the guala, she ain't even see me shoot past her
Sit my gun up bitch, just like my OP
She gon' outlast her

Your lil homie died, you ain't spin back
The fuck you scared or something
Them strikers on my ass
I run up 20 and bought all the guns
Address the situation while I'm off cets, I send it up
Bodies keep on dropping back to back inside my city
Cuz the wrong niggas got money
Lil folks hot they aint no chilling
Busting off the trips
But I prefer the Wok, just cuz the feeling
Caught him snoozing on his block off that and stamp the hit
FN make his body twitch
Almost got off until he tripped
I let them shells eat on his face
He get up close, make sure he hit
Shawty run off like folks
I know I got him when I blick
I pit a name on everyone, these 556's in my clip
We don't pop innocents, we come shoot who we looking for then dip