Текст песни Murder - UGK
I'm
still
Pimp
C
bitch
so
what
the
fuck
is
up?
I'm
puttin'
powder
on
the
streets
cuz
I
got
Big
fuckin'
nut's
comin'
back
from
Louisiana
In
a
Fleetwood
Lana
I
deserve
them
nigga's
shit
to
put
they
pea's
on
they
banner
Got
the
pound
four
by
four
cuz
you
know
I
just
Pay
to
nigga
bought
thirty
from
me
So
I
fronted
forty
two,
he
gonna
pop
to
seven
hundred
Times
sixty
two,
twenty
four
eight
is
what
I
do
So
fuck
what
'cha
do
If
I
told
ya
cocaine
number's
you
think
I
was
lyin'
Young
nigga's
twenty
two
talkin'
bout
they
retirin'
In
the
game
ain't
a
thang
comin'
far
then
we
been
Rick's
home
two
apartment's
where
enter
Tight
friends
mo
bounce
to
the
ounce
Cuz
the
Wood
the
shit,
I
done
got
me
Fifty
ounces
out
of
birds
ya
bitch
Tightin'
up
no
slack
bitches
checkin'
my
stock
Got
some
Burban
City
nigga's
so
I'm
a
go
to
my
garage
Just
got
back
from
California
kicked
it
with
B-Legit
Put
me
down
with
purple
chronic
and
that
hurricane
shit
At
the
studio
with
Tom,
I
wish
I
could
stay
I
got
to
holla
at
Master
P,
cuz
we
got
money
to
make
We
with
playa'z
from
the
South
stack
gee'z
man
Like
Ball
I
got
to
stack
big
cheeze
man
Bitch
say
he
wanna
show
ya
You
got
nine
grand
I
ain't
rappin'
shit
Till
my
money
in
my
hand
South
Texas
mutherfucka
that's
where
I
stay
Gettin'
money
from
yo
bitches
every
Got
damn
day
Big
paper
I'm
foldin'
Hoes
is
on
my
mutherfuckin'
jock
For
all
this
dick
I
be
holdin'
I
hate
grown
man
show
it
Especially
if
a
fool
take
our
style
and
Act
like
my
nigga's
don't
know
it
I
kick
it
with
the
trill
nigga's
so
you
best's
Not
trip
if
ya
keep
on
talkin'
shit
My
nigga
empty
the
clip
Hoe
azz
nigga
Murder,
Mur,
Mur,
Murder
Murder,
Mur,
Mur,
Murder
Murder,
Mur,
Mur,
Murder
Murder,
Mur,
Mur,
Murder
Murder,
Mur,
Mur,
Murder
Well
this
Bun-B
bitch
and
I'm
the
king
I'm
movin'
chickens
got
'em
finger
lickin'
Stickin'
nigga's
who
be
trippin'
You
need
a
swift
kickin'
yo
azz
is
right
for
the
pickin'
Now
down
as
my
pocket's
stickin'
I
be
thinkin'
nigga's
slippin'
you
sick
When
I
be
clickin'
now
take
a
look
at
the
Bigger
nigga
Marl
liquor
swigger
Playa
hata
ditch
digger
figure
My
hair
trigger
you
bound
one
hot
one
in
yo
liver
You
shiver
shake
and
quiver
I'm
free
from
nigga
you
wetter
den
a
river
For
what
it's
worth
it's
suburblous
some
nigga's
doin'
dirt
Fuck
her
first
and
take
off
her
skirt
Make
the
pussy
hurt
Mister
Master
Hit
the
Swisha
faster
then
you
keep
a
Blister
bastard
fuck
her
sister
faster
Hit
the
elbro
for
sale
yo
Brother
better
have
my
mail
hoe
Before
I
catch
a
murder
case
and
go
to
jail
hoe
Hell
no,
time
to
bail
hit
the
trail
so
We
can
sell
mo
fuckin'
yell
get
the
scale
No
other
bullet
duck
or
get
shoved
Inside
this
game
they
better
buck
us
Cuz
the
clucker's
they
love
us
Make
them
class
dick
suckers
Check
they
jelly
like
smoker's
I
hit
like
nun-chuckers
Cuz
Short
Texas
bring
the
rukus
This
for
my
muthfucker's
Cookin'
cheese
to
crooked
geez
Rockin'
up
quarter
key's
Just
to
get
the
hook
with
ease
Wanna
bee's
get
on
yo
knee's
Fill
the
squeeze
from
them
HK
one
three's
>From
here
to
over
sea's
We
do
what
we
please
No
trip
cuz
we
flip
Light
up
a
dip
I'm
breakin'
'em
off
from
they
hip
to
yo
lip
Go
ask
that
boy
Skip
That
nigga
Bun
rip
With
one
clip,
soon
as
the
gun
slip
Now
I
done
ripped
out
my
Barile
Flyin'
through
yo
belly
belly
and
Some
smelly
red
jelly
is
drippin'
out
of
ya
belly
Servin'
'em
like
a
Deli
jumped
on
my
cellular
telli
Hoe
sell
it
like
it's
goin'
out
of
style
You
can't
see
me
Marcus
so
have
a
Motherfuckin'
Sweet
and
smile
1 I Left It Wet for You
2 Something Good
3 Murder
4 It's Supposed to Bubble
5 Pocket Full of Stones
6 Diamonds & Wood
7 Short Texas
8 Let Me See It
9 Front, Back & Side to Side
10 Ain't That a Bitch (Ask Yourself)
11 Ain't That a Bitch (Ask Yourself) [feat. Devin the Dude]
12 Protect & Serve
13 Choppin' Blades
14 Good Stuff
15 Pocket Full of Stones (Pimp C Remix)
16 One Day
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