Murderman lyrics

[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Pullin' down your block, they call me murder-murder man (Bah)
I might send a couple shots, you know it's murder, murder, man (Ah)
I'm the three-phone shawty, I got burners, burners, man (Phew)
n*ggas really don't want beef like I'm the f*ckin' burger man (Ah)
Talkin' gangster sh*t, but you would never hurt a man
You's a b*tch, on God, foreign whips in the lot (Ah)
Yeah, I'm stuffin' my pocket with all of them knots (Knots)
I don't give a f*ck about your thot (Thot)
I'm beatin' her box, she suckin' my c*ck (Yeah)

[Verse 1: Trippie Redd]
I got me some paper, them n*ggas got hot
I got me a mop, I don't give a f*ck, you n*ggas get dropped
Six feet, n*gga, right in the street
I'll leave 'em right in a motherf*ckin' creek (Creek)
I put my life on a motherf*ckin' beat (Beat)
Got this sh*t out the mud, sh*t out the street (Street)
She wanna f*ck, tug on my meat
She wanna love, b*tch, I'm a freak

[Verse 2: LAZER DIM 700]
It ain't no love when you deep in these streets
Send out a drop, we gon' push up, we deep
And I keep splurgin' my racks on this weed
Hollow tips in the Glock, sh*t got disease
Step on these n*ggas neck, we don't let 'em breathe
Pull out that scram, gotta spread out my drip
I took a Uber there, left in a Lyft
Glock 19 with a scope, no Smith
Come to that block, you gon' see me on Fifth
Pull up with a stick and give you a gift
f*cked up in the whip, I drift
Everybody trap out the store, we got zips
Everybody got us a fire, we got clips
Come down the wrong block, whip get flipped
[Chorus: Trippie Redd & VonOff1700]
Pullin' down your block, they call me murder-murder man (Bah)
I might send a couple shots, you know it's murder, murder, man (Ah)
I'm the three-phone shawty, I got burners, burners, man (Phew)
n*ggas really don't want beef like I'm the f*ckin' burger man (Ah)
Talkin' gangster sh*t, but you would never hurt a man (Haha)
You's a b*tch, on God, foreign whips in the lot (Ah)
Yeah, I'm stuffin' my pocket with all of them knots (Come on, turnt up, not burnt up, n*gga, diss on the gang, can get your dumb ass sent up, knots)
I don't give a f*ck about your thot (Dumbass boy, thot)
I'm beatin' her box, she suckin' my c*ck (You know that, come on, yeah)

[Verse 3: VonOff1700]
You know that
First n*gga tweak gon' leave in a box (Dumbass)
You don't wanna work no job, the last n*gga died tryna punch him a clock (Dumbass)
n*ggas be dumb, what the f*ck? They think I'ma fight? I'll f*ck 'round, shoot at the rocks (You know that)
Before all this rap, I was probably stealin' a car or bendin' a f*ck n*gga block
If I get a lo' on an opp and don't got no shoes, I'ma bounce out the V in some Crocs (Come here)
We got a pic of the lil' n*gga dead (His dead ass), look at his feet, he was knocked out his socks (Damn)
Catch him at a Walmart, chase him all through the lot (Come here, come here)
I let off three shots and three n*ggas got popped (You know that)
b*tch, I'm a menace, I can't be stopped
That n*gga got hit with a switch and a chop (Bah)

[Chorus: Trippie Redd & VonOff1700]
Pullin' down your block, they call me murder-murder man (Bah)
I might send a couple shots, you know it's murder, murder, man (Ah)
I'm the three-phone shawty, I got burners, burners, man (Phew)
n*ggas really don't want beef like I'm the f*ckin' burger man (Ah)
Talkin' gangster sh*t, but you would never hurt a man
You's a b*tch, on God, foreign whips in the lot (Ah)
Yeah, I'm stuffin' my pocket with all of them knots (Knots)
I don't give a f*ck about your thot (Ah, thot)
I'm beatin' her box, she suckin' my c*ck (Yeah)
[Outro: VonOff1700]
You not my dad, you always wanna hear somethin'
You ugly f*ckin' doodoo head, f*ckin', hahaha