Murda Shxt lyrics

[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 f*ck up everybody getting close to me homie
Because my vision won't focus so I be slinging the dough and the f*cking elbows
Rip a b*tch 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 f*ck 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
f*cking with the Gs that's sitting like a f*cking A.M.B. track
You're a f*cking D-bag
You ain't really G, that's all a f*cking lie bro
You're a f*cking B-rad asking where the piece at
f*ck it, I bring that ruckus
Only fine hoes
f*ckers 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 sh*t, yeah
Got the, Got the, got the gas for the clique, yeah
I'm on, I'm on, I'm on Smash with a b*tch, yeah
Do that, Do that, do that dance on that b*tch, yeah
This that murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
This that murda, murda, murda sh*t
This that murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
This that murda, murda, murda sh*t

[Verse 2: Bonez Dubbs]
It's a murder motherf*cker 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 f*cking 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
f*ck what you heard, flying high like a bird
Take a b*tch, but I might though
f*cking put that on the Bible
f*ck 'em up like Kylo when he be taking on a Sith
Never been a b*tch like you
What you gonna do that's nothing
All I ever wanna do is smoke on something
I'm that motherf*cker 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 sh*t 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 f*cking drop of a dime
And there be murder on my motherf*cking mind all the time like
[Chorus: Young Wicked]
This that axe murda sh*t, yeah
Got the, Got the, got the gas for the clique, yeah
I'm on, I'm on, I'm on Smash with a b*tch, yeah
Do that, Do that, do that dance on that b*tch, yeah
This that murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
This that murda, murda, murda sh*t
This that murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
This that murda, murda, murda sh*t

[Outro: Young Wicked]
Murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
Murda, murda, murda sh*t
Murda, murda, murda, murda, murda
Murda sh*t, murda sh*t