Текст Joell Ortiz – MURDER ONE

These tears are no longer for you baby
These tears are no longer for you baby
(Heatmakers, crack music)
These tears…

Fred the Godson:
It’s Gordo!

Trey lab with Fred, we can turn it Beirut
Get head in your bed, fingers all in your bae roots (Haha)
She wildin’ off, I’m like a shot of that Grey Goose
Don’t care for my eclairs, lick a shot at ya grey goose
The illest to illustrate it
The realest if skill’s debated (That’s true)
Still they hated, like, «Fuck your lyricism»
Ten forty belows, constructive criticism
Gordo… Joell
Go slow, gas blow, oh well
Gettin’ that cake, cash and love, gotta go to the scale
On a plate, mask and gloves, I ain’t go to Modell’s
Feinds in Hell, stuff went well
Before I was workin’ with Lil’ Puffs like Andre Harrell
This is for my hood niggas waitin’ on a cell
All my niggas up north with they weight up in the cell
I’m ?

Method Man, Joell Ortiz & Fred the Godson:
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, th-th-three, two, murder one lyric at your door
Let one of these niggas act up and I’ma (Murder one)
I wish a nigga would jump so I could (Murder one)
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, th-th-three, two, murder one lyric at your door
Let one of these niggas act up so I could (Murder one)

Joell Ortiz:
Uh, wait up though
Was on that corner up on the crate before The Wake Up Show
Thirty two back, only cooked twenty eight up though
I ain’t just blow, straight up, I had straight up blow
Technos and Jojos, no Jacob glow
Bright goals and fo-fo’s lift your face up, bro
I could tell the kind of stories you can’t make up though
Being myself allowed me to fuck them make-up hoes
You could have this bitch back, I ain’t gon’ take your hoe
Just know if the pussy good that we gon’ break up slow
I write hits and buy kicks
Fly shit and I ain’t never been inside Kif
I might be trippin’ but I feel like these niggas forgot
Let me remind ’em like rewinding the Kennedy shot (blagh)
I’m still Muhammed with the word vomit
This cash is heavy as clay in my jean pocket

Method Man, Joell Ortiz & Fred the Godson:
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, th-th-three, two, murder one lyric at your door
Let one of these niggas act up and I’ma (Murder one)
I wish a nigga would jump so I could (Murder one)
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, th-th-three, two, murder one lyric at your door
Let one of these niggas act up so I could (Murder one)
I wish a nigga would jump and I’ma (Murder one)