murder man dance - spice 1 lyrics
[intro: spice 1]
yeah, what’s up, you p-hiv-havin’–ss niggas?
this is to you, you punk motherf-cka
it’s spice 1, black bossalini, b-tch
my nigga pimp c
bun b, you know i’m sayin’
came to drop game on you niggas
check this shit out, you know what i’m sayin’
feel me, smell me, motherf-cka
[verse 1: bun b]
we live and direct from the bay
blowin’ it up with no play
f-ck what a hoe say
jump out the trap and pull a o.j
like kyser soze
we blunted out smokin’ the most hay
higher than josé
but still watchin’ you haters closely
so buenos noches
got the yesca and the mota and your mami chocha
steady livin’ mi vida loca
marijuana smoker
we get richer, b-tch you get broker
play ya just like poker
royal flush it without the joker
so take a toke of the bombay
smell it from here to pompeii
in your f-ckit or your cadillac allante
nothin’ but good ganj-ay
don’t get it twisted, you come up stinkin’ like strangé
we get ballistic, specifically speakin’
we straight leavin’ you niggas leakin’
too many d-ckriders geekin’
why in the f-ck you tweakin’?
you peakin’ but won’t prance
you wanna take a chance?
everybody in this b-tch can do the murder man dance, nigga
[chorus]
won’t stop that shit to get the cheese
me take your set gs
pimp c, bun b, spice o-n-e
we ride for fetti
la lala lala
[verse 2: pimp c]
smokin’ big, ???, invest in uncut caine
do my thang for the paper, ya’ll do ya shit for the fame
these hoe–ss niggas walkin’ ’round like they need a daddy
you a b-tch, you need a pimp, i grip the grain in the caddy
i’m a hog in the game, i got some wet and some brown
i got some white and some syrup, i’m tryin’ to sew up my town
f-ck niggas standin’ around like the pistol ain’t needed
young niggas ain’t scared to die, they gettin’ c-ked up and weeded
i remember who retreated when the war was on
some niggas around ’em was neutral, but still ate food in my home
my real brothas roll with me when the gun started poppin’
and he never told on me when the hog started stoppin’
i come from port arthur, texas, where the hatin’ is high
just for the record, f-ck you b-tches and you hoes ain’t fly
niggas never squared off, cause they know that i’m trill
y’all talk that shit in y’all circle but i give a f-ck how ya feel
about a young rap nigga with a bag full of dope
so put some endo in your swisha, b-tch, and take you a smoke
[chorus]
won’t stop that shit to get the cheese
me take your set gs
pimp c, bun b, spice o-n-e
we ride for fetti
la lala lala
[verse 3: spice 1]
motherf-ckas wanna keep a nigga under the water
but i’m a k!ller i’m a die for mine
niggas is lost in the game
at the same but change
the b.g.s got the k, born to k!ll you
starin’ at the world through my rearview
never fear you—nigga for what?
i got clips in the cuts
big b-lls and guts
finna bust at a nigga wit’ one hand on my nuts
leave ‘em six feet stankin’ under grave and then stuck
feder-als got niggas surveilled
lookin’ at a nigga with binoculars, searchin’ for braids
and keep a k!lla on the payroll ready to hit
but i still run around with a motherf-ckin’ do-it-yourself kit
niggas is dealt with, dyin’ in threes
make enemies that wanna burn me on a jesus [???]
but hot slugs make a motherf-cka’s corpses freeze
infrared on my strap on the side for cheap
nigga please, suckas can’t f-ck with the
aks, mini fourteens, automatic uzis
to g, or not to g, i be s-p-i-c-e
pimp c, bun b let a thug in me
all you b-tch -ss niggas be muggin’ me
playa hatin’ niggas wanna put a slug in me
made a ditch for you niggas, and i dug it deep
[chorus]
won’t stop that shit to get the cheese
me take your set gs
pimp c, bun b, spice o-n-e
we ride for fetti
la lala lala
won’t stop that shit to get the cheese
me take your set gs
pimp c, bun b, spice o-n-e
we ride for fetti
la lala lala
do the murder man dance
do the murder man dance
do the murder man dance
do the murder man dance
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