Lyrics Crime Scene (Edited) - The Murderers
[Dave
Bing
The
fuck
is
wrong
with
y'all
niggaz
You
think
this
shit
is
a
game
nigga
Like
it
ain't
about
murder
and
cocaine
nigga
The
fuck
is
wrong
wit
y'all
It's
Murder
Inc
nigga
With
some
Dave
Bing
shit
Stop
gettin
it
fucked
up
Yeah
[Dave
Bing
Yo
the
first
dollar
for
me
I
admit
it
the
block
did
it
Murder
came
with
it
Nice
cars
and
dime
bitches
Hangin
out
late
Nicknamed
the
milk-crate
But
on
a
bad
note
came
jail
time
and
jam
nines
Can
you
feel
the
rhyme,
feel
a
thug
trying
to
shine
On
the
grind,
you
better
keep
your
ass
in
line
Cuz
from
the
get-get-go
nigga,
say
it
ain't
so
nigga
You
was
watchin
me
through
your
window
nigga
Doing
crimes,
selling
twenties
for
dimes
Middle
finger
in
the
air
screamin
fuck
one
time
As
you
peep
out,
don't
got
the
balls
to
speak
out
Scary
reach
out,
scream
murder
and
pull
the
glock
out
Cock
it
back,
then
tell
your
crew
to
relax
Take
a
deep
breath,
now
take
six
to
the
chest
Ten
to
the
neck,
just
incase
you
wearin
a
vest
And
thats
the
whole
sixteen
coppin
in
safeen
[Tah
Murdah
Motherfucker
when
you
see
Tah
Bet
I'm
holdin
a
fifth
and
a
full
clip
At
any
given
moment
to
flip
on
some
bullshit
Spit
it
sick,
flowin
like
alien
And
I'm
way
beyond
flashin
So
if
you
see
crumbs
nigga,
get
to
dashin
I
mastered
the
game,
accurate
aim
Put
two
in
you
Slappin
your
dame,
jump
back
in
the
Range
For
this
hover
dough
Rapidly
gunnin
the
floor
like
a
calico
Let
it
rip,
reload,
and
spit
a
hundred
more
Give
you
a
reason
to
run,
oh,
you
gung-ho
I
hope
y'all
niggaz
really
ready
cuz
my
steel
is
heavy
And
feel
no
petty
for
those
stuffed
in
a
box
Nigga
peep
it
and
watch,
how
the
sun
glisten
on
rocks
I
pissed
on
the
blocks
and
hustle
for
scraps
But
now
I'm
on
some
click-clack
Keep
your
eyes
on
the
cash,
gimme
that
Where
they
at,
y'all
niggaz
want
it
We
right
here,
let
me
make
myself
clear
Nigga
we
can't
be
touched
The
fuck
y'all
want
[Ronnie
Bumps
From
rob
men
that
rob
grown
men
And
be
the
one
hustlin
til
the
one
come
in
The
worst
niggaz
cock
back,
and
spit
for
gin
Til
the
day
we
win
niggaz
is
gonna
fall
from
wood
hall
Thugs
who
seen
it
all,
this
is
war
The
streets
ain't
the
same
no
more
Niggaz
came
to
keep
the
roar
but???
on
the
floor
Let's
explore,
whoevers
quick
on
the
draw
is
the
law
The
fuck
you
set
these
rules
for
It's
the
streets
My
code
is
the
heat
plus
we
all
gotta
eat
Take
a
seat,
and
watch
the
streets
get
runned
by
thugs
Now
stand
up,
and
watch
my
hustlin
niggaz
rush
the
club
Automatic
love,
fingerprints,
clubs
b,
38
snubb
Motherfucker,
do
you
know
me?
Ronnie
Bump
with
a
four-five
that
won't
leave
you
lonely
My
slugs
will
be
your
homeys
Pop
the
glock
and
make
you
know
me
[Black
Child
I
was
only
fourteen
doin
my
thing
Gettin
cream
in
Jamaica
Queens
Niggaz
scheme
for
they
dreams
Come
clean,
if
not,
you
gots
to
get
shot
Give
me
the
ooh-op,
and
let
me
hold
down
the
block
Fuck
cops,
I
pump
crack
rocks
on
back
blocks
Lace
shots,
at
them
snitch
niggaz,
snap
box
Black
Child
couldn't
go
play
with
the
children
Cuz
I
was
too
buisy
pumpin
up
them
jums
in
the
buildin
While
most
kids
went
to
school
to
maintain
I
was
in
the
spot
cookin
up
cocaine
The
game
got
me,
at
eighteen
I
got
sloppy
Caught
a
body
and
shot
up
his
house
party
Time
to
relocate,
I
better
transport
my
weight
Pick
up
all
my
papes
and
bounce
out
of
state
Catch
me
in
Virginia
I
ain't
gonna
never
surrender
Unless
I'm
dead
or
injured
and
thats
somethin
to
rememeber
nigga
[O1
Yo
it
ain't
nuthin
1 Intro
2 Murderers (Edited)
3 Dem Niggaz
4 Shit Gets Ugly
5 We Getting High Tonight (Edited)
6 Tales from the Darkside (Edited)
7 Get It Right ((Edited))
8 We Different
9 Rebels Symphony (Edited)
10 Black Or White
11 If You Were My Bitch
12 Crime Scene (Edited)
13 Somebody's Gonna Die Tonight
14 Holla Holla (Remix)
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