Murder
Murder

The Game - Murder Lyrics

26
Murder Music Video

Murder Lyrics

I don't see nothing, I hear you talking about it
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it
I don't see nothing, I hear you talking about it (murder, murder)
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti (murder, murder)
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it (murder, murder)
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it (murder, murder)
Murder, murder
Murder, murder
Murder, murder
Murder, murder

I got choppers all down South Beach
That pistol talk when your mouth leak
Got a black Impala on Collins, nigga
Got a Glock in air, standing in the back seat, I'm wildin', nigga
Long money, fuck a rubber band
On a paper chase, I do the running man
Stealth black chopper with the infrared beam on
Fifty round drum, if I run out of bullets, hit a nigga with the nina
Better hit a nigga with the scope
Bet he won't talk with his back on the rope
Floyd Mayweather with the chopper
When a nigga get to choppin' put a razor blade at a nigga throat
I don't fuck with no scared niggas
I never did and I never will
Let the Glock go bang, now you Kurt Cobain
Knock a nigga right out of real

I don't see nothing, I hear you talking about it
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it
I don't see nothing, I hear you talking about it (murder, murder)
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti(murder, murder)
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it (murder, murder)
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it (murder, murder)
You shinin', we shinin'
You timin', we timin'
You grindin', we grindin'
We got cash money and diamonds
You shinin', we shinin'
You timin', we timin'
You grindin', we grindin'
We got cash money and diamonds

Take a nigga back to Compton and chop a nigga body up
Take a trip to East LA and chop a new Maserati up
Take my black Bugatti, do donuts on Greenleaf
Then hit Crenshaw doin' 300, nigga Chief Keef
Ridin' down Crenshaw, stuntin' with my bitch though, ballin'
I'm from Compton, she from Watts, but we both got pistols
Blowin' trees with the top down, word to YG
If you don't want a problem motherfucker, why speak?
Niggas killed my nigga Pup, tell them niggas try me
Keep two K's in the back, shotty in the front and the chrome side beach
No disrespect to the Dogg or the city Long Beach
But I'm the king out here, motherfucker on me

I don't see nothing, I hear you talking about it
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it
I don't see nothing, I hear you talking about it (murder, murder)
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti (murder, murder)
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it (murder, murder)
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it (murder, murder)

Writer(s): Henry Nicola Mancini, Kendrick Lamar Duckworth, Mark Henry, Brad Jordan, Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Norman Gimbel
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, O/B/O DistroKid, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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