Murda (Explicit)

Quality Control

2025-09-193:21 分同期歌詞

「Murda (Explicit)」はQuality Controlの曲です, 2025, Pop。長さは3:21, 89 lines / 556 words。

歌詞

0:05Ay Duke Deuce

0:07What the f**k these n***as talkin' 'bout man

0:11Ay they got us f**ked up

0:13Y-R-N

0:15Money paper racks cash blue hunnids guapa-nese

0:19Foreign b***hes suckin' f**kin' got 'em all on they knees

0:23All my n***as totin' pistols even with felonies

0:28And they shoot 'em like a camera n***a say cheese

0:32I know n***as bangin' Bloods Crips and some G's

0:36And I got them shooters 'cross the country overseas

0:39These Percocet 10's got me geekin' feel like Hercules

0:43It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season

0:47What

0:47It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season

0:51Murda

0:51Them young n***as killin' hurtin' n***as for no reason

0:55Brrah

0:55Free my brothers down the road locked up but still eatin'

0:59And they'll still never ever fold

1:01When they see the judge ain't no pleadin'

1:03It's just me and Duke Deuce

1:04Duke Deuce

1:04We gon' beat a n***a a*s 'til he turn black/blue

1:06Boom boom

1:07See the opps we gon' shoot

1:08Brrah

1:08All these dead bodies n***a recognize who was who

1:10Who-who

1:11Way I ran got 'em spooked

1:12What

1:12I came in with the gang so I'ma pull up with the troops

1:14Gang

1:15And I ain't ever gon' switch

1:16Nah

1:16And my n***a wiped your nose there's no one you can use

1:18B***h

1:19Murda murda murda murda murda murda

1:22Murda

1:23These n***as gangsta poppin' s**t 'til we turn 'em

1:26What

1:27Into b***hes yes we keep that fire we gon' burn 'em

1:30Brrah

1:30No you can't buy them stripes n***a gotta earn 'em

1:34Money paper racks cash blue hunnids guapa-nese

1:38Foreign b***hes suckin' f**kin' got 'em all on they knees

1:42All my n***as totin' pistols even with felonies

1:46And they shoot 'em like a camera n***a say cheese

1:50I know n***as bangin' Bloods Crips and some G's

1:54And I got them shooters 'cross the country overseas

1:58These Percocet 10's got me geekin' feel like Hercules

2:02It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season

2:061-2-3-4 trappers up in my bando

2:095-6-7-8 sticks so the b***h better get low

2:13B***h better get low

2:14You think of Duke Deuces Memphis

2:15Memphis

2:16Makin' easy money and pimpin'

2:17Pimpin'

2:18Whole 'lotta robbin and dealin'

2:19And dealin'

2:20Man everybody here killin'

2:21Man everybody killin'

2:22I heat up and beat up the block

2:23I G up to keep up to re-up the stock

2:25Re-up the stock

2:26Look what I am what you're not

2:27The people they eat up 'cause all my s**t hot

2:29My s**t hot

2:30I'm out with no fours my ice is cold

2:31His ice cream rocky road

2:33Rocky road

2:34Stick to the code I never fold

2:35I put that on the fours

2:37Diddy

2:39You can see in a n***a eyes some hunger

2:41Don't bother me

2:43N***a f**k with me they gon' hide lil' homie

2:45Yeah my nuts hangin' ain't no gangbangin'

2:46Why the f**k you shootin' if you ain't aimin'

2:49Goin' one-fifty end up half-capped

2:50With the red seats like a dark angel

2:53Money paper racks cash blue hunnids guapa-nese

2:57Foreign b***hes suckin' f**kin' got 'em all on they knees

3:01All my n***as totin' pistols even with felonies

3:05And they shoot 'em like a camera n***a say cheese

3:09I know n***as bangin' Bloods Crips and some G's

3:13And I got them shooters 'cross the country overseas

3:17These Percocet 10's got me geekin' feel like Hercules

3:21It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season

Ay Duke Deuce
What the f**k these n***as talkin' 'bout man
Ay they got us f**ked up
Y-R-N
Money paper racks cash blue hunnids guapa-nese
Foreign b***hes suckin' f**kin' got 'em all on they knees
All my n***as totin' pistols even with felonies
And they shoot 'em like a camera n***a say cheese
I know n***as bangin' Bloods Crips and some G's
And I got them shooters 'cross the country overseas
These Percocet 10's got me geekin' feel like Hercules
It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season
What
It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season
Murda
Them young n***as killin' hurtin' n***as for no reason
Brrah
Free my brothers down the road locked up but still eatin'
And they'll still never ever fold
When they see the judge ain't no pleadin'
It's just me and Duke Deuce
Duke Deuce
We gon' beat a n***a a*s 'til he turn black/blue
Boom boom
See the opps we gon' shoot
Brrah
All these dead bodies n***a recognize who was who
Who-who
Way I ran got 'em spooked
What
I came in with the gang so I'ma pull up with the troops
Gang
And I ain't ever gon' switch
Nah
And my n***a wiped your nose there's no one you can use
B***h
Murda murda murda murda murda murda
Murda
These n***as gangsta poppin' s**t 'til we turn 'em
What
Into b***hes yes we keep that fire we gon' burn 'em
Brrah
No you can't buy them stripes n***a gotta earn 'em
Money paper racks cash blue hunnids guapa-nese
Foreign b***hes suckin' f**kin' got 'em all on they knees
All my n***as totin' pistols even with felonies
And they shoot 'em like a camera n***a say cheese
I know n***as bangin' Bloods Crips and some G's
And I got them shooters 'cross the country overseas
These Percocet 10's got me geekin' feel like Hercules
It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season
1-2-3-4 trappers up in my bando
5-6-7-8 sticks so the b***h better get low
B***h better get low
You think of Duke Deuces Memphis
Memphis
Makin' easy money and pimpin'
Pimpin'
Whole 'lotta robbin and dealin'
And dealin'
Man everybody here killin'
Man everybody killin'
I heat up and beat up the block
I G up to keep up to re-up the stock
Re-up the stock
Look what I am what you're not
The people they eat up 'cause all my s**t hot
My s**t hot
I'm out with no fours my ice is cold
His ice cream rocky road
Rocky road
Stick to the code I never fold
I put that on the fours
Diddy
You can see in a n***a eyes some hunger
Don't bother me
N***a f**k with me they gon' hide lil' homie
Yeah my nuts hangin' ain't no gangbangin'
Why the f**k you shootin' if you ain't aimin'
Goin' one-fifty end up half-capped
With the red seats like a dark angel
Money paper racks cash blue hunnids guapa-nese
Foreign b***hes suckin' f**kin' got 'em all on they knees
All my n***as totin' pistols even with felonies
And they shoot 'em like a camera n***a say cheese
I know n***as bangin' Bloods Crips and some G's
And I got them shooters 'cross the country overseas
These Percocet 10's got me geekin' feel like Hercules
It's murda murda murda murda murda murda season

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