MURDAMURDAMURDA

Problem
Tell 'em
Machete gang
Ask no question
Suicidal to the death
No fuck around we'll pump some shots up in your chest
We don't walk 'round with no vest
No fuck around we'll pump some shots up in your chest

Non frega un cazzo a me se questa merda non va in radio
Se non va in Top 10, scemo, parlo un altro slang
Giriamo incappucciati come gli Anunnaki

Gli appuntati urlano: "Fermi" con i ferri già puntati e bang
Credevo alla giustizia, ho visto un socio mio pestato
Lì ho pensato: "Sono un bastardo senza Dio né Stato"

Nelle piazze, nelle case, come al bar nei weekend
Se ti beccano, farai au revoir al tuo Audemars Piguet
Okay, wait, wait, brotha
Com'è che se va magra, vai di spada tipo J.J. Abrams?

Terrore ad ogni play se c'è il mio tape in sala
Voglio l'hall of fame, ascolto Tame Impala
Se vuoi, faccio il translate, fake, impara
Più infami e lolite che squali a Recife
Più leche de tigre nel mio ceviche, fai il capo quando sei il vice

Non vali neanche due lire, la fine del mio regime
Da fasci contro compagni a gattini contro sardine, eh-eh

Quando il dubbio mi possiede, il trucco si intravede
Ma finché puzzo di potere, ho il lusso di godere
Dammi il mic, homicide, così vedi che combino
Dove stai, fuori o dentro? Sei peggio di un secondino

Murda, murda, murda (Murda)
Say we not afraid of people fuck what you heard of
We bust open the gates I enter where we murda (Murda)
So, please, don't test me faith and stir up me hunger (Brah)

Yuh, di-di-di-di-di-did it off mystic
MAC one shot, might let it off
Script this, all this scribble, they ain't never lost
Ain't no games, my grind they never soft
Big man like me ain't never gonna let 'em off
Realest nigga that ever, ever was, ever, ever was
Shut it, set it off, litty buzzin' off cocaine
And I made the record, the brethren can never phantom of the level that my brothers couldn't elevate to ahead of us
Eminem and any American that is leveling, I'm pretty but he could put you on anything
I've never been a brother they could sit on, and sitting was like a sussing
And I've been to the point that they tapping on a Mc
Gregor tee
You know my style, and you gotta hold my style
They ain't bled enough or read anything
Wait, wait, brotha (Hold up)
I just looked across my bench-press and saw eight plates, brotha (Eight plates)
You ain't liftin' more than eighty after eight steaks cut-up (Remember that?)
I was rippin' eighty ten times in the eighth grade, wallah
Played Beyblade, but
You ain't no bad boy, really
After this one drops, I'm confident all of Milan gon' feel me
After this one drops, I'm givin' you suttin' a tad more drilly

After that one's dropped, all the odds, my dad gon' kill me
Like "Wizzy, you mad boy, silly"
Nah, Dad, I'ma boss quick, million profit
You finna log in or log off, amigo
If I'm chillin' with Bob in Milan with the squad, and you really gon' bop to Nitro
If he chillin' with her and he double her age and he think he a boss, he a pedo
I can't believe they're mad, got dem men all walking around with a Robert De Niro
Them man are weirdos, I forget

Murda, murda, murda (Murda)
Seh we nuh afraid of people fuck what you heard of
Me bust open the gates I enter where we murda (Murda)
So, please, don't test me faith and stir up me hunger (Brah, brah, brah)
Murda, murda, murda (Eh)
Seh we nuh afraid of people fuck what you heard of (Brah)
Me bust open the gates I enter where we murda (Eh)
Me buddie are the ruffest that you ever heard of (Brah)

E se non so chi sei
Bussi nella notte e puoi
E quando ti incontro sai
Cristo, vedo solo guai
Ahi, ahi