Talk

[Chorus]

Well bitch niggaz get you of the grind, nigga grab the nine and

Well fake niggaz try to cop the style, cop the 40 cal then

Well if you don't like the way its going down, nigga grip the pounding

And if there's more than one that got the gold, grab the cal keep going

[Verse 1 - Ja Rule]

Real talk, the inc about to run New York

Cause there's no real niggaz left to hold the torch

Who gon' hold us of, cause you don't read newspaper's nigga

Lt Ja tell it, that's murder inc boy's, that's real killers

Money laundering, tax avaid and drug dealers

Backed by chemical grit, you can't be serious

We just niggaz getting money, f**king all the bitches

And life and death between a matter of inches

You know

That fo' four that handle his buisness

Like capital game, reload and hit them with intrest

Damn

What so gangsta about these niggaz

Now I got the full speed niggaz, led

Leave them dead over prayers, or head

Cause we done f**king these same bitches

And you know they talk, and the pillows be my witness

My forgiveness

Niggaz can't be this stupid

It's gun talk, niggaz better get used to it

[Chorus]

[Verse 2 - Blackchild]

I dont' care if you're a criminal or a cop, shoot or get shot

I'm raised by the plot, product of the hater

The gauge and the glock, and I keep a blade

I ain't afraid if it pop, the gauge still a gun

Married muder one, sleep with the fishes

Tasting red rum, young and corrupted

Nothing to f**k with, straight out of the gutter

With no introduction

Our role models is forced with the hollows

F**k slothes the swallow the fifth a holla

The whitness and the polla

Weed twisting ganja

Load up the clip's and flip the corner

They Morner, be morners stay gunner

We gangster, gangster point and blank ya'

Thank ya'

Niggaz keep me in the mood

To eat a nigga food

I murder with real bombs

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Ja Rule]

The nine the cal the pound of coke, niggaz

The weed the dope the E' the coke, niggaz

The gauge is mine, that's all I know

I've been doing this since 9 6, the oldies know

This tough load, the 3 8 o's, I let my hoe's hold

Keep it in them working, In case I'm legal searching

They got worship god, and trust the gun

Ask for your forgiveness, and send niggaz up

F**king stick niggaz up, these bitch niggaz touch

It's all about violence, real niggaz is silenced

And know these niggaz whoes guns got low mileage

Got ducked taped, all tied up in their houses

I'll make you watch while I f**k the spouse

This, ain't buisness, it's personal, gun talk

when I holla your the first to know

How many hoes, and how much blood has been lost of

[Chorus]

Yeah

Murder INC

We riding here motherf**kers