slapperz & clapperz - nwm cee murdaa lyrics
[intro: nwm cee murdaa]
([?] music)
murdaa!
what? (frrt, frrt)
frrt (walk down), ayy, ayy, ayy
(f*ck all these n*ggas, f*ck all the goofies)
ayy
(gang, gang)
ayy
[chorus: nwm cee murdaa]
if it ain’t slappin’, you don’t even need a phone
if her ass ain’t clappin’, then why should i take her home?
i swear these n*ggas h*lla’ tender, see ’em fallin’ off the bone
put up racks for the winter, now it’s summer, b*tches on
n*ggas say they havin’ drip, well, cheap n*gga, put it on
(put that sh*t on, put that sh*t on) well, n*gga, put it on
my n*gga just came home from the feds and i put him on
gave him five p’s, you don’t owe me, n*gga, get it gone
[verse 1: nwm cee murdaa]
don’t shake it like you do on your story, b*tch, is that a clone
i wanna hеar it clap*clap*clappin’ all day long
had one down, b*tch, don’t love her, i don’t liе to hoes
miss my other b*tch, so i had to say goodbye to hoes
(brrt*brrt*brrt*brrt*brrrrt) that’s the brick phone
(brrt*brrt*brrt*brrt*brrrrt) that’s the zip phone
(frrt*frrt*frrt*frrt*grrah) i let the switch blow
treat the goofies like weed, we got highs and got lows
let me know what to deliver, say you need a whole load
i don’t trust a n*gga, i’ll let you in, no, you can’t get the code
i don’t trust hoes, even my b*tch ain’t even got the code
give a b*tch fifty pillows, make her ass hit the road
b*tches be more solid than these n*ggas
if a n*gga run up on me, man, i’m quick to pull the trigger
bullets hot, you don’t get shot, then yo’ ass gon’ leave wit’ blisters
but i barely graze n*ggas, always hit n*ggas
[chorus: nwm cee murdaa]
if it ain’t slappin’, you don’t even need a phone
if her ass ain’t clappin’, then why should i take her home?
i swear these n*ggas h*lla’ tender, see ’em fallin’ off the bone
put up racks for the winter, now it’s summer, b*tches on
n*ggas say they havin’ drip, well, cheap n*gga, put it on
(put that sh*t on, put that sh*t on) well, n*gga, put it on
my n*gga just came home from the feds and i put him on
gave him five p’s, you don’t owe me, n*gga, get it gone
[verse 2: myaap]
she gon’ shake that dummy ass, make that booty jiggle
she gon’ drop it ’till it split, make that booty wiggle
gotta’ stay focused, keep my head on a swivel
he say he love the way i smirk, and the way i giggle
bum*ass n*gga, who is you?
brodie got that dog on him like scooby*doo
n*gga beat down my line, that’s what the coochie do
b*tches always in my business, but they p*ssy loose
yeah, b*tches be junkies, why you sippin’ on that juice?
i’m the real myaap, all you other b*tches dupes’
really ’bout my paper, ’bout my chicken, and my loot
you would think i was crip the way i rock all this blue
i’m really in my bag and these b*tches mad
she gon’ throw it back, she gon’ make it clap
if i’m on the beat, you know that sh*t slaps
fat cat, throw it back, sit it on his lap, baow
[chorus: nwm cee murdaa]
if it ain’t slappin’, you don’t even need a phone
if her ass ain’t clappin’, then why should i take her home?
i swear these n*ggas h*lla’ tender, see ’em fallin’ off the bone
put up racks for the winter, now it’s summer, b*tches on
n*ggas say they havin’ drip, well, cheap n*gga, put it on
(put that sh*t on, put that sh*t on) well, n*gga, put it on
my n*gga just came home from the feds and i put him on
gave him five p’s, you don’t owe me, n*gga, get it gone
[outro: nwm cee murdaa]
mm, get ’em gone
uh, mm, uh, uh, uh, n*gga, get ’em gone
ayy, ayy, n*gga, get it gone
if she ain’t shake it, n*gga, then why then would i take her home?
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