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Murder Rap (feat. Armageddon) - Fat Joe



     
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Murder Rap (feat. Armageddon) Lyrics


Uh oh, uh oh
Let's get it over with
Yo sound boy turn the levels up
Let's get it over with, uh
Terror Squad up in this motherfucker
Where my real niggaz at?
My Bronx niggaz, my fast niggaz
I see you Lil' Hat! Uh, Ah aha!
It's time to take it to these niggaz right here
Yeah, yo, yoWho wanna spaz out? Crunchtime, blow ya abs out
Leave you in the fetal position, witcha ass out
Ready to mash out any crew actin' like
They the true facts of life, frontin' through the camera lights
Despite, we hold it down regardless
I got Def Jam suckin' me like, "I wish you was my artist"
For starters, who's the largest cat?
Get a hundred grand from my most garbage rap
Now how hard is that? Everything we spit be hot

Whether it's live on Flex or in front of the chicken spot
Grimed out, we really live what you rhyme 'boutSee me posted up in the Tunnel, with my shines out
Ice cold like Alaska when I pass ya
Got girls shakin', losin' they breath, as if they catchin' asthma
Headed to the bar to pop some bottles
Now we in the car headed home to rock some models
All I hear in the background is Gucci and Prada
But I'm tryin' to 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?Aiyyo the gangsta's back
Stop it right where you at
Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap
Tell them thug niggaz, listen to that
Gotchu feelin' it hard like Joe the God's really bringin' it backI'm from my days and legends, since age eleven
I was the cause of dope fiends catchin' AIDS infections
Most of us are dead, but the rest is locked
Runnin' in the rec room and check me out on the box
A CEO could get optioned tryin' to change the channel
It's like tryna take the flesh outta the mouth of hungry cannibals
Joe the God, the flow is hard
Known for packin' two dozen birds like Noah's ArkI'm the realest of 'em, make you feel the pressure
Catch you at a club, smack you up, steal ya leather
You niggaz soften me, beat you out of the mix
Tough talk, tough walk, but you cry like a bitch
I see you downin' the Cris', I'm not hatin', I'm just aggrevated
I ask myself every day, how these faggots made it?
Fuck around with the don and get decapitated
I'm sick of hearin 'em souls for all the cats that made itAiyyo the gangsta's back
Stop it right where you at
Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap
Tell them thug niggaz, listen to that
Gotchu feelin' it hard like Joe the God's really bringin' it backAiyyo the kid is back
Leave it right where you at
Let a real nigga hold that, you probably won't clap
Tell them thug niggaz, move it on back
I'm feelin' tight and I'm hot
Ready to pop the crack right through your backThat's how Kenny rocks, I'm more advanced than how your learnin'
I'm like the force of space balance and planets while they churnin'
Poppin' rosary beads, piss on ya candle while it's burnin'
Rush ya widows crib and pop ya, bodies
Now I know you can feel 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 cloud the stash boxSplash ya brains on ya birds' laps
Swerve you on the curb, crash the Range, and push the front skirt back
And murk after that, blurtin' curse words
Yo I popped that nigga's son one before we catch the first
I'ma kill any murderer, leave a nigga burpin' up
Blood, chokin' on chunks of his lung interior
Every verse that I spit's a personal riff
I meet a ill key frontin', I'm a murder you shitNiggaz play me while disturbin' the Bricks
I'm like the feelin' of the first time they ever held a bird in they grip
Motivator thug, scrape 'em, shoot the bolts in his butt
Energizin 'em up, make 'em wanna open 'em up
Actin' like I can't happen till I smack him in his Adam's apple
Death to rappin', I don't wanna battle
I'd rather rush your studio session and shatter the booth
Clap at ya face, give the mic feedback the goofAiyyo the gangsta's back
Stop it right where you at
Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap
Tell them thug niggaz, listen to that
Gotchu feelin it hard like Joe the God's really bringin' it backAiyyo the kid is back
Leave it right where you at
Let a real nigga hold that, you probably won't clap
Tell them thug niggaz, move it on back
I'm feelin' tight and I'm hot
Ready to pop the crack right through your back

Enjoy the lyrics !!!
Fat Joe (born Joseph Cartagena on August 19, 1970) is a American rapper of Puerto Rican and Cuban heritage. Born and brought up in the Bronx, Joe was popular in the large underground hip hop scene during the early and mid-1990s. During this period, Joe was affiliated with KRS-One — there are pictures online at KRS-One's Temple of Hiphop site showing the pair drawing graffiti ("bombing") together. He is also the most widely known member of the D.I.T.C. Crew (the "Digging in the Crates Crew"), along with smaller hip-hoppers such as Diamond D, Lord Finesse, O.C., A.G., Buckwild, occasional member Big L (deceased), and Big Pun (deceased). The title of the group refers to DJs who "dig in the crates" of used record stores to find rare or novel records with "breaks" that they could use as fat beats for production or in performances. Fat Joe has flirted with gaining mass recognition in the mainstream American music scene, most prominently in his massive cameos on songs by artists such as Jennifer Lopez.

Fat Joe's first single off his eleventh album is, "Another Round," a collaboration with Chris Brown. The Another Round Songfacts reports that it was his first Hot 100 hit for four years.

Fat Joe has also had major beef with his ex TS Crew member Cuban Linkz who was a part of Fat Joe TS Crew until they had a disagreement about money royalties and the pair had a fight and Fat Joe knifed Cuban Linkz on the side of his face. The beef has quiet down now but they are no longer friends and nor do they speak to each other.

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Fat Joe