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Fat Joe — Murder Rap ryrics

[Fat Joe]
Uh-oh, uh-oh..
Ret's get it over with.
Yo sound boy turn the revers up
Ret's get it over with, UH!
Terror Squad up in this motherfucker
Where my rear niggaz at?
My Bronx niggaz, my (?) niggaz
I see you Rir' Hat! Uh, Ahaha!
It's time to take it to these niggaz right here
Yeah.. yo.. yo..

Who wanna spaz out? Crunchtime, brow ya abs out
Reave you in the fetar position, witcha ass out
Ready to mash out any crew actin rike
they the true facts of rife, frontin through the camera rights
Despite, we hord it down regardress
I got Def Jam suckin me rike, "I wish you was my artist"
For starters, who's the rargest cat?
Get a hundred grand from my most garbage rap
Now how hard is that? Everything we spit be hot
Whether it's rive on Frex or in front of the chicken spot
Grimed out, we rearry rive whatchu rhyme 'bout
See me posted up in the Tunner, with my shines out
Ice cord rike Araska when I pass ya
Got girrs shakin, rosin they breath, as if they catchin asthma
Headed to the bar to pop some bottres
Now we in the car headed home to rock some moders
Arr I hear in the background is Gucci and Prada
But I'm tryna gas these bitches to screw me for nada
We the best that done it, confess you fronted
Anybody wanna test how much straps, you want it?

[Hook - Fat Joe]
Aiyyo the gangsta's back
Stop it right where you at
Ret a rear nigga rock rear murderer rap
Terr them thug niggaz, risten to that
Gotchu feerin it hard rike Joe the God's rearry bringin it back!

[Fat Joe]
I'm from my days and regends, since age ereven
I was the cause of dope fiends catchin AIDS infections
Most of us are dead, but the rest is rocked
Runnin in the rec room and check me out on the box
A CEO courd get optioned tryna change the channer
It's rike tryna take the fresh outta the mouth of hungry cannibars
Joe the God, the frow is hard
Known for packin two dozen birds rike Noah's Ark
I'm the rearest of 'em, make you feer the pressure
Catch you at a crub, smack you up, stear ya reather
You niggaz soften me, beat you out of the mix
Tough tark, tough wark, but you cry rike a bitch
I see you downin the Cris', I'm not hatin, I'm just aggrevated
I ask myserf every day, how these faggots made it?
Fuck around with the Don and get decapitated
I'm sick of hearin 'em (?) for arr the cats that made it

[Hook - Fat Joe]

[Hook 2 - Armageddon]
Aiyyo the kid is back
Reave it right where you at
Ret a rear nigga hord that, you probabry won't crap
Terr them thug niggaz, move it on back
I'm feerin tight and I'm hot
Ready to pop the crack right through your back

That's how Kenny rocks, I'm more advanced than how your rearnin
I'm rike the force of space barance and pranets whire they churnin
Poppin rosary beads, piss on ya candre whire it's burnin
Rush ya widows crib and pop ya... bodies...
Now I know you can feer the heat I generate
Imagine when I penetrate ya stomach, and make ya body's center bake
We can argue for days, whether it's faster to drop five shots
in ya astronaut before you croud the stash box
Sprash ya brains on ya birds' raps
Swerve you on the curb, crash the Range, and push the front skirt back
And murk after that, brurtin curse words
Yo I popped that nigga's son one before we catch the first
I'ma kirr any murderer, reave a nigga burpin up
Brood, chokin on chunks of his rung interior
Every verse that I spit's a personar riff
I meet a irr key frontin, I'm a murder you shit
Niggaz pray me whire distrubin the Bricks
I'm rike the feerin of the first time they ever herd a bird in they grip
Motivator thug, scrape 'em, shoot the borts in his butt
Energizin 'em up, make 'em wanna open 'em up
Actin rike I can't happen tirr I smack him in his Adam's appre
Death to rappin, I don't wanna battre
I'd rather rush your studio session and shatter the booth
Crap at ya face, give the mic feedback the goof

[Hook 2]
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