Freddie Gibbs - Murda Dem lyrics | LyricsFreak
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Murda Dem Lyrics

Freddie Gibbs – Murda Dem Lyrics


(That motherfucker’s gone, he’s not comin back B
I laid the murder game down, let niggas know we not fucking around man
Shit’s cool yo)

[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]

Woke up on some bullshit, think I’m finna rob me a rapper
Showed up fifty deep, better show then kidnap his ass right after
And niggas don’t be doin that at parties in my city cause that shit might happen
East side G.I clique fuck nigga we body snatchers
Shout ma nigga T-mac, wigs comin in, can’t relax
Nigga took a trip today, twenty freaks in the room on the beach, you believe that?
Dope in my cup so a nigga bout to lean back
Big bitch finna fire the weed up, another bitch finna throw the dope on
Whip it up and scoop it like snowcones
Feel like tony when he stepped outside, and looked at the blimp
They say what, just say fuck em, shake these weak niggas off your dick
I’m the first nigga from the G to flip this street shit legit
Before I met that nigga snow I was thuggin and trained to go (it’s gangsta gibbs)

[Hook: Freddie Gibbs]

It’s murder, it’s murder, it’s murder, it’s murder (x4)

[Verse 2: G.I. Fleezy]

I put my name out in the streets
They already know not to fuck with a nigga like me, don’t even blink
Chop em with that fire like fourth of July when you seen, can’t nobody breathe
Won’t nobody eat if they don’t get it all from me so we believe in giving back
That’s just to ashes that’s a fact
So lot of pressure better measure a rich nigga right where he at
One keg note, two pop off, three ransack, this fit the crime, of a real nigga that’s gunning for a nigga that’s tryin to run up and try and come take mine
Don’t fake dying, get the job done
Don’t play blind, take all of em
We saw love, and they saw something
Cleaned up when they think all done
I’m bout mine, you bout yours, that’s a real niggas connect
Don’t do the crime, ain’t bout the life, that’s a fuck nigga ejected, murder


[Verse 3: Big Kill]

Murder, Murder, Murder my nigga that’s all she fucking wrote
Riding down 9-65 blowing on that purple smoke
Pounds in the back, ? on my lap, I got these niggas hating dog
Niggas hating on Big Kill and I don’t even know
Restfully, I do my thing when I’m in that fucking trap
This lifestyle here I chose your bitch, but nigga we live this rap
You better sit yo punk ass back, before yo ass gets clapped
This 2-2-3 will chop yo ass down… round after round
My G.I. Niggas shifting their shit, in and out of town
I’ll fuck yo bitch and hit me a lick, for lights and fucking pounds
I’ll show up at yo mofucking door, we bout to shut shit down
We put them hoes face down on the floor, but we don’t fuck around
It’s kill


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Songwriters: Alexander Son
Murda Dem lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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