Loaded Lux vs. Murda Mook

THROWBACK CLASSIC: The full lyrics to the epic eight-round battle between two of the best emcees to ever grace the scene.

Watch the battle here.

Round 1

Murda Mook

Murda Mook getting them chips again

Last smack what happened? My shit got back from Switzerland

Dog, you're on my dick for what?

You mad at me cuz I ain't have to give no chips to your bitch to fuck?

Listen Lux you an infant I rip you up

Chew you spit you out and watch them stitch you up

And I'm cool once they fix you up

Cause you got celibate gats, he would never let his pistols bust

I love heats, I think I'm bout to market some

This nigga flow shaky like he got Parkinson's

Listen, it's a rap once I palm the gun

Might as well call me Glenn the way I'm robbing son

I'm Harlem's son, if I hear you mumble that I'm not

Hop in the box and save the gun the trouble of the shot

Cause the muzzle on the Glock, quiet when them shots fire

Till you wondering why you lying in some hot fire with a nigga with a pitchfork

I'm just foreshadowing moral of the story pop quit

With all the slick talk

Dog, ya money this short

A Benz what my wrist cost

Look at you ha

Look at me

This is what my bitch bought

Fine, you enhance the drama

Call me the syrup sniper cause I'ma shoot your aunt, ya mama (Aunt Jemima)

Everybody in your family dog

I got no remorse I'm even clap the family dog

Your bitch want a real man to score

Probably cause he the type to nut before she get her panties off

You immature, just like your measly flow

This nigga here government bread easy dough

I'll let you live but you better be easy though

Cause I could make you sit calm (sitcom) like a TV show

Easy

Loaded Lux

This nigga so fucking frail

He ain't trust his skills heard he had to battle me

He couldn't sleep he needed a week to go home and write raps for me

He got word from the faculty, he nice we need a strategy

Now I'ma put this money up but look Mookie don't embarrass me

Well actually that's when the dude come in

I heard you balling you getting some schooling in

That nigga go come home and grow up in the same room he grew up in

Don't play he-man, please, freeze! And keep hands free

Cause you know the drill

If you pass away

They'll go behind you like the three man weave

This is ugly! This cat!

Y'all put Mugsy! on Shaq?!

It's like a pink rugby, gray slacks

How the fuck is we a match?

You rapping for dough? packing shows?

Mook get the hell out

You might as well be yourself, at least you know you a fucking sell out

Look I'm bout getting this money, C.T.C.!

"Cut the check" give Lux respect

Ey fuck youngin on PCP?

You was getting high with the Dell guy!?

He's telling you the PC's free?!

What happened to that part deal on the dvd?

Ey I couldn't believe I turned on the smack shit and seen his face

Like goddammit this nigga's parents smacked some shit up on his face...

Don't start, I'm a shark

In a pond with a guppy

I rap how he look

So yea this shit gone get ugly

Yea I'm convinced you ain't even have to sell to retire

Nigga you wouldn't kick a hot bar

If your cell was on fire

That's his mom's again

My cell be on fire

Bitch wearing me down

I tell her like "you cutting up!"

She say "wait you hearing me now?" I said-

You better take this butter to escape this gutter

You a neva make mills like Jae Millz's mother

Glock in the waist and I don't carry birds to dinner

Your bitch I pop her and skate, she'll get shot in the face like a Larry Bird defender

Look he taking L's with that Dave Chappelle-hazey sell

Mook Murda keep coming up short like Asian males

Yo you like an employee that just got fired this nigga work bad

Hey what's that new nigga violator just signed

O yea he got dirt bag!

Mook don't wanna serve fiends

He knew what my birds bring

Get the crills, hit the field

Hustle like the third string

Mook let the mic go, you ice cold!

If Caucasians buy most of the albums this nigga wouldn't even go white gold

You don't like low

Look at him he want to catch me in bed wet me with lead murda me in it...

Round 2

Murda Mook

Eyo forever I'm in floss mode

Even after I'm shot I bet you catch me in the drop at the crossroads

And I sport clothes that cost more than 4 O's

Lord knows I bought robes for where the Porsche goes

You wanna talk dough, lets talk plasma

And dust for money machines until you got asthma

Y'all rookies at this I got the game padlocked

Look at the clock doc don't put up a bad shot

I got a stash box that's big enough to stash Glocks

Big enough to have blocks running like they ass hot

This nigga a fake wolf he a Minnesota mascot

In my hood they're finding bodies where the trash drop

I'm past hot I should be living on Mars

Here's a list of mcs that can kill you in eight bars

Murda, Jigga, Jada, use to be Nas

But now he on some shit about the moon and the stars

This nigga falling off? That's just part of the cycle

How I'm doing this little kid, y'all got me feeling like Michael

And I ain't tryna to catch a charge so quit with all the reckless talk

If he say he got a deal he bout to buy a deck of cards

All my weapons large, type of shit I'm letting off

Type of shit that motherfucker Saddam was arrested for

I'll put your name in stardom, under innocent victim found slain in Harlem

If you think you a problem

I subtract you from your fams, plus I'm multiplying my stacks up for them grams

You don't really wanna "blam"

He just talking like operators

Hood silencers you wanna eat some hot potatoes

Cops portray us to be trouble makers

Cause I bubble cakes up and I'm like a Xerox cause I double paper

Loaded Lux

Yall betting I put money on y'all plates with this wack shipment

Even he looking like he feeling a little funny bout his weight

That's why he eating a lil like fat bitches

My raps vicious and I'm skilled with the choruses

He still cutting crills, hustling pills like Morpheus

Walking in the offices

All out of order

This lame in the game and he ain't scored a whole quarter

A&R guy lie worser than his lawyer

They see Mookie thirst but won't point him to the water

This cat he sweet

Ought a fax his beats

And his raps just weak

Like crack head teeth

You couldn't stack bread chief

When you limited to life

Look he want a chain

But gotta wait till the winter to see ice

I bundle tan-man get my yellow brick road on

Y'all all felons cause even the niggas telling get told on

Last nigga tried work L, prolong I stole on

Let the dirt trails, church bells and slow songs

In the valley up in since real

Since balleys was the kick still

You'll get shot walking through my alley like it's McBeal

But bitch ain't no Halle or no Winfield

Lin that is, then yo bitch

Better learn the value of a kids meal

Mook I rally into big bills right

Cause if I feel slim on benjamins

Faggot we go do it like the pilgrims and Indians

You thought 50 had many men?

Nigga you'll get jumped, heat and thrown in the trunk

Like Harry and the Henderson's

Ey! the beats get played

I throw fire on it

Heat get blazed

His cd plays

And get dissed/disc

Like CD trays

See his babe

Shape don't look right

But I get head so much I make her look up

So i remember what her face a look like

You can't take your push white

If the weight don't cook right

Ain't bout this money...

Well Mook why we even conversating goodnight!

...and the pies stay chiefing...

Round 3

Murda Mook

I said yo niggas school me as a youth I was fit for the booth

Everybody on the block wanted to listen to Mook

Like whoo, this kid is the truth

How he spittin this loose?

I can't wait to his shit drop like it was shit on the coop

Y'all spit fiction, you ain't never pumped on the strip

Shit, you might have had on pumps on the strip, you a bitch!

And you ain't moved a brick since head start

Go head talk

Be that next nigga the feds chalk from lead spark

You on the block where mets park in front of your crib

And your mom's all crying outta her wig

This lame nigga ain't worth it, if I ain't it, shit, I'm the closest one to perfect

I ain't doing it on purpose

We ain't the same you playing Sean I'm Curtis you fruntin I'm stuntin

And it's getting niggas nervous

I got the morphine to feed this cocksucker

I'm the champ, I got the belt, this hot peas and butter

And I can't let another motherfucker come and snatch it

So I gotta keep the ratchet like Jason with a hatchet

Should I coup it? should i hatch it?

Or should I Maybach it?

Or come up with a crazy car called the straight jacket?

Y'all don't really wanna beef

You don't really want your peeps

Laying in somebody's beach

Identified by their teeth

Ease up, or feel more heat than twenty perms

Half your hammers don't exist like Missy curves

Any herbs want to come taste what the semi serve

I got plenty nerve to crush y'all cats like sticky herb

I don't know what the fuck is wrong with ya man

But Ty you better get him

Fore niggas singing that song for your man

Y'all don't want the reverend reading them psalms for your man

About how god opening up his palms for your man-so fam

Quit running around talking about your ass hot

I know you heard what happened to the last pop

You ass I can award you wouldn't blast shot

He cake batter he a shatter like when glass drops

This fag want cocks to run in his rear

I bet he probably wear leotards under his gear

But he swear he a nightmare

Thinking I be frightened quit it

Pop admit it

We all know you wouldn't fight a ticket

I wouldn't even want to pipe your bitches

I'm getting type suspicious

Cause your bitches, is looking like your niggas

The G.M. - I'm ahead of the culture

Murda got the game locked like it ain't never was opened

Imaging you stealing the shine while I'm here

You got a better chance stealing the shine from Times Square

My flow's ahead of your flow two times squared

My dough's ahead of your dough you sign where?!

He don't even got a career

He look like he starving like you ain't got a dollar to spare

I'm hotter than yea - every motherfucker in the game

Sick flow-"I got it bad" I'm Usher in the rain

And I keep my hands on one of them thangs

So watch your words duke or get a word two in front of your name

This is Murda Mook to Pac-Man

I got the gat man

That'll show your insides like a cat scan

I got my guns drawn

I'm ready for action

I'm Smith and Wes Craven

But I ain't actin'

This is un-cut raw coke for you

If you "Ready to Die" I can tell your folks for you

If you outta this world we got telescopes for you

This is easy your niggas better hope for you

Loaded Lux

Still the shit mean with 16's in the clip in

One in the gat head with the scope on it so the shit got more coverage than Shaq bed

I'ma do the smoking but he'll have the crack head

The cat said he caking up I caught him the bakery truck

That's what you mean you stack bread?

Lux is who the artist is I'm like a pic train I'm sick boy, I spit more

Than a bus full of retarded kids

He started it, but know he look lobster

With the shook posture

I bared the tool he was scared to move

I thought he bought his shoes from Foot Locker

What's not to respect you think I'm ice tea sweet

Nah he the type d creep

You think it's a game right?

Well you'll be looking from the floor like a Spike Lee seat

And that shit you got weak

What you tryna save grams?

He couldn't tell that shit was a rock to a cave man

And he said he sent his shit to Switzerland to get fixed

Why you lying Mook? you had a Fossil watch

And that was at the museum-

Aww man

Should I end it yet?

No wait I got time his mom's ain't finished cooking dinner yet

I been a threat since a little dude he don't wanna keep it lyrical

Cuz right now he look mad like he wanna get physical

Nah don't do that they'll-fuck!... they'll visit you....

Can I finish? Can I finish?

Round 4

Murda Mook

We was here long enough, now it's time to let your spirit loose

I gave you a chance to try to pull your little miracle

You can try to mirror Mook all that you please

What's coming out my mouth sick, like I got an oral disease

Take a trip down my strip I gotta order you skis

A buffet for the neck and wrist so it could freeze

Jigga told you bout the Robb Report, so he involved the courts

Thinking he meant that when you get robbed, report

It don't cause shit to let the fifth dissolve your thoughts

I send you up to god for sure I'm not playing

Who you frightening with this loud shit pop you do not weigh in

Like an empty air freshener can you're not spraying

And hell yeah I had his wife

She was always Gladys Knight/glad it's night

To ride the midnight train to come and get the magic pipe

It's aaaight it's like he a martyr for the streets

I'm am archer with the piece

Put I ain't got to pull no strings back but

The thing clapped

And then BAP the target is deceased

Wanna beef when these clowns is amongst ya

Then all the trash talk get him found in a dumpster

He hot on his block, but to the town he a busta

He Orphan Annie to the labels cause none of them want ya

And your man don't gotta say what kinda Bentleys you whipping

Cause we know you run with liars you like Jiminy Cricket

Ask them cats you wit if

You wanna make me the one

I don't got to clap you, you'll die once you see the gun

Make his head hot like when the fever come

Ox, the Glock, pop either one will still send you to kingdom come

How do I explain the wrist? Uhh you ever seen the sun?

Niggas staring at it like it's the first day they seen their son

Yay got the main flow, I hope you niggas know

I'm the world's number one supplier, I hit Cola with the coke

I got the fiends tied to it like I sold it with a rope

Sell to everybody see the pope know bout my dope

No you not a contender, you're not in my league

Look pop you're hot as December, you probably'll freeze

Run back in your mami's placenta, you're not gunna squeeze

I'm on the block with the sinners getting dimes from the P's

While I was out on the keys getting right with his real dykes

You was letting niggas throw the banana in your tailpipe

And he like dice, I reveal the hammer a lil bit

Then it's click, clack, get down on the floor like Banner and Lil Flip, faggot

Loaded Lux

All right, y'all know the cat bomb street felt

Rap till the beats melt your heat shelved

Mook ain't been strapped since a seatbelt

Nigga you in a state of hunger

Faggot you ain't had a hot line since they started 800 numbers

This rap shit dog, on every station

That's why I'm sick with it Mook's cool (?) give me all that medication

So I got bored of education

I started getting money off the books

Like the board of education

Your pride you better safe guard it

I'm nice I told Mook he couldn't fuck with me

But you want to catch rape charges

Labels sent this nigga to me

The way I break artist

You ain't hot you scotch

In other words your tape garbage

I don't wanna talk man I'm torching this nigga

My heater like his beeper going off on this nigga

You won't get to grow up, get your soldiers

I'm quick to roll up, with the toasters

You'll get your shit clipped like ticket holders

What you know about flashing toasts and assassin coats

You'll get wrapped with ropes

Till you feel nothing like Casper's ghost

Half your jokes and your daps shaky

Now that's crazy cause I felt realer pounds on a fat baby

I bust my gat lazy

I let the bullets do the work

My pitbull up in the skirt

Shit pulling from the purse quick

Leave the crimes for the crooks, out your rhymes and your hooks

You'll never see a rap tour/raptor cept in a dinosaur book

If I don't drive I get pushed

I get my walk on barely

I never been in TRL, but I'm in a car, son daily (Carson Daly)

Now what y'all gone tell me

Like this idiot experience

I'm seeing a lot of Jamie Kennedy experiments

Mook was the make up artist

I could have sworn before Mook got the deal he was the make-up artist

I break up y'all shit

Like Nas if he catch Jacob jogging

Stop your run, nigga pop my gun

For this serious Mook....

Round 5

Murda Mook

Eyo I've seen a lot of dumb niggas in my lifetime

But you epitomize the motherfucker running out of lifelines

In the day I'm usually sleep, if I catch him in the nighttime

You would hear he got left for talking out his right mind

You trying to get signed, you'll settle for labels pimping you

Long as you getting gear and they keep you with a bitch or two

Meanwhile you check your checks

They ain't giving a cent to you

I smell pussy, I know he giving off that scent to you

Killing is a sport, you hungry to be a corpse

I got a tray-full of lead I can serve you in bed

And what about your bread, what shines you wear

Your ice like Christmas lights

They seen one time a year

I'm not a cool guy

I'll let shots from the tool fly

And lift your spirit in the air, think you too fly

But if you do try

You know me

Just know that thing closer that Preach and Cochise

He the type get a threat go reach the police

Not me I'm a mammal

How could I like snakes?

Give him a pen, tell him spell friend

I bet you that he write Jakes

Ever since a baby, had the sense for the gravy

My sis had to pay me, just to sit by the a.c.

Fuck you think I'm crazy, I got mphs (?) on them 80s

And big shits that you'll think was shipped from the navy

I move bricks but I mainly get my dough off weed

So fuck what you heard my money do grow on trees

I got a disease, I can't let go of the steel nine

I'm so thirsty for a murder, trying to kill time

Other hand I still grind

Get rid of them big shipments

Murda Mook, I done flipped more keys than an ignition

Listen, all the glistening in my hood get rid of it

We'll take you out those chains we're like slave abolitionists

My gun gon squeeze

Till your lungs won't breathe

He got a cold

So don't let the snub nose sneeze at you/achoo

Loaded Lux

Yo we all know Mook wouldn't rob shit

Hard dick the only way he stick up

My AR lift up, anything radar pick up

I'm the beast with the crowded click

We deep when we prowl the strip

Trust me you ain't want beef like cows is sick

My game polish chump

Even if you brolic punk

It's nothing I get this shit jumping like hydrolic pumps

Bring it to you how you want, hollows dump, he'll front

But where he live, will be the first building hit

Like Tower 1, see how the hours come fast

When it's time to rest

Go buy a vest

Cause I don't really think you got an iron chest

But you'll get a head full

Same guns the feds pull

When they let loose and got boost like Red Bull

I'm in the spot where the women be wastin

Wake up and can't find where they memory station

But the bitch know I'm spending some faces

She think I'm a lawyer the way the bartender keeps sending me cases

Round 6

Murda Mook

You a fool if you think I wouldn't air my steel

It's like he got a weave, because this kid here/hair is not real

He the type to squeal if he confronted the judge

Be on the stand shaking his hand like "That was who it was"

Niggas need to get tossed in a lake

Cause everybody know rats is the road mostly everybody hate

When you in the station helping cops sketch my face

I be in the station bout to cop and stretch my weight

Stretch before you hit them weights young man you might hurt yourself

And my waist always strapped like a garter belt

I pop your vertebrae, leave you in the worsest way

Leave you under 24 hours of a nurse's aid

Murda me, you're gonna need more than a pistol

No nines, no Glocks, better order some missiles

Cause you beefing with an army and your boy is official

That won't mean shit once the coroner get you

And I'm still a young pimp the hoes say my grin turn 'em on

So I got them hoeing from the night till the turn of morn

They all excited running like Mook I heard your songs

All right I'll get back write your number on your thong

My pockets like a bong, packed full of green

I decided on the (?), though the Aston was mean

I'm a little bit picky when I'm copping a ride

I cop 'em for show really, I don't cop em to drive

I ain't want to push the six, I put a lot in the five

And my Jeeps look like fuckin' helicopters inside

I see you eyeing my jewels, when I post on the avenue

The iron's my tool, get too close and I'm clapping you

I'm frying the fool if he boasts with a attitude

You can die in a pool or you can show me some gratitude

What I'ma have to do is far worse than sneaking in your mom's purse

He done put his two feet on the wrong turf

Bomb first like Machiavelli

You don't even gotta tell me for the cheddy

Ill ox your belly and I'll pop a felon

I'll be the first to cock the desi

And put it in his mouth like Akinyele

What you want from me?

I'm 18 sitting on Trump money

Your bank accounts my little brother's lunch money

With the shotty

I'm like a nigga with no more grams, I pump dummies

I don't think you're getting a hunch dummy, scram

Yo the man that I am is not what you wonder

Mook is ruthless like a drop in the summer

I cock it and dump on one of you cocksuckers

Y'all cannot touch us we spot rushers

With toast I'm serving that hot butter

I move E (movie) like Blockbuster

Try not to let the block bust ya

I'm keeping the tool to pull

Shut the fuck up, kid is immune to bull

The way we're wolves (werewolves) you'd be thinking the moon was full

Ain't nothing I see fucking with me

Owe me money, well up and your seed's coming with me

And the crib got something to squeeze, tucked in my jeans

Act up it ain't nothing to be under some leaves

Look, he wanna be a hero

For the bread and the cheese

We'll roast the beef, hit him with hot peppers and slice his onion,

So please don't let us (lettuce)

While y'all play catchup (ketchup)

I take ten steps up

You taking two it don't add up do it

You see the x cake up

Take a bite eat the rest later

I peddle more than BMX racers, chase us

The crack is hard, the cain is soft

You peddling too, but your chain is off, faggot

Loaded Lux

Y'all acting like the judge lending out appeals

Niggas is bitchin up now from Tims they out on heels

They watch the cars now so I be ridden out my wheels

Case of pick-offs, switch more than twenty dollar bills

Rollie prezzie shit, bezzie lit, desi grip

He said some shit

Mook'll get popped and he'll drop like pregnant chicks

(Fes equip, half this shit we hear ???)

I'm on the set with the wet that ain't deer park water

So yea you'll oughta heard of me with the realist flip

I sell that whip like dealerships

Still I get

Stories you telling

You left me floored from the pellets

I can't get wet nigga the vest is like water repellent

Chicks I got to pay them g's

The bitch you popping sleeves

I slide and bone, you find them homes

Like adoption agencies

Your block is flopped with make-believes

Cops and swats and rager teams

Well not some stock paper please

Top the drop with AMGs

The way they bees

Flocking through my home

Mook don't get mad you call your bitch on my flip and her name popped up on the phone

Same topless on the chrome

Base it burn the muffle

It ain't your turn to shuffle

Well Mook you couldn't deal with the aces

And he don't want beef I could tell

My click like slut pussy all we do is run beef

This nigga dumb sweet

And I turn any block you on

Into 21 jump street

Yo you'll get jumped b

And that's just how I feel

Got the strip straight lift weight like I body build

I don't know how he chill

This nigga pockets is like pre-paid phones

That nigga ain't got a bill

You ain't thugged out

Your click got a lot of liars

You ain't dubbed out

Your whip got a lot of tire

Man I'm snubbed out the fifth got a lot of fire

I'm bugged out like a snitch with a lot of wires

I'm still thinking how a hammer went pop

But when he went broke I'm like damn hammer went pop

Now that's the type of shit that make hammers go pop

If bullets was footage

This nigga throwing cameo shots

My people will shoot

It's like the sequel to Roots

You'll get shot from your tops till they reach to your roots

These niggas think it's peaches

After (?) the gat is drawn, you'll get your gallop on

Like the Preakness

Round 7

Murda Mook

Don't consider me a youngster

Cause I done spit among the top competition

You're not competition

Listen, I was in cyphers was supposedly the nicest

Trust me it wasn't nothing to be overly excited

I spit till my belly ache

My rhyme scheme make fellas wait

When I battle it's a crime scene eyo Ross take out that yellow tape

And I push weight

I done seen my share of several cakes

So raw fiends told me it made them see the devil's face

I nicknamed it devil face

I piped his wife the first night

The bitch screamed so loud she made my fucking watch bezel break

Take a break my time to shine is now

I'm a hustler I grind from dimes to pounds

You wanna floss in my hood

Oh you good? till the swammy squeeze

It make you take your ice off I call it anti-freeze

Yea with me

I'ma annie on my freeze

With a bitch it go from what up

To her standing with her knees

And the whips make niggas say - hold up we gone stop that right there

----------I said yo the industry is funny

They love you when your money stuck

But when your cake is baking they jumping to try to fuck it up

That's why I keep something tucked for every lil part I hear

I got the light for your brain if you tryin' to have a smart idea

Listen here, Mook the reason why you rappers missing here

Yea I hear him whispering like "why he bring his business here?"

Cause I'm on a brilliant mission

Trying to stack so much stacks that by the time I'm finished eating I'ma have a million dishes

Chill with your wishes

It ain't never gon stop

Your broad she ain't never gonna get off my cock

Accept that peace

Accept the fact that she gotta look at my poster every night to go to sleep

He a Maltese, his dogs ain't attracted to beef

Cease before something happen to you

All right talk like you packing a few

And I'm attaching a piece

That when it shoot, it make a sound of a pew!

You ain't as tough as you think you are

Dog, you been fucking with them drinks too hard

Lay off, or we can do one better, have a spray off, I'll let eight off

You looking at the black Adolf

I bake and scrape cakes off

Plates that I ate off

When I shoot you off my dick stay off

Ok boss?

Rappers talking how he hotter than the bunch

Turn around his album flopping more than Vladdy in the clutch

This industry is killing me

Security! Security!

Who wants to approach you?

Nobody knows you

All of y'all bitches he just wants some attention

He want the people to see him try to ask who he is

Sell records mother fucker make a name for yourself

Stop using your body guards for help

I ain't gotta be convinced it's always my intention to blast

You talk shit I glue your lips to your ass

I know I ain't the only one that's walking around with clips in a mag

He probably got an arm too but his shit's in a cast

I ain't have a problem getting them bricks in the past

Then I grab jiggaboo from Peru

She got them shipments through

Like Yao Ming the new kid on the block

You talk shells well I've got a few hitting the Glock

I cock, make it sound like Whoo Kid in the spot

Kill everybody I don't care who kid in the spot

Do a bid in a box, nah I'm claustrophobic

It's against my religion

I can't get closed in with the rock

I run a motion

Pass and cut to the hoop I get the fiends open ready to shoot

Shoot, he done done it again

He did came around fronting in a different 600 again

I keep telling you it's nothing to spend

He was probably the little nigga on the trip didn't have nothing to spend

Fabricating stories about his blings and his cuts

When what? Only green he's probably seen's in a dutch

You never had much so for a range or Impala

He be like 4 quarters cause he change for a dollar, holler

Loaded Lux

Ey your boy couldn't walk in my foot steps

He wouldn't have a foot left

All these years running this shit and I never took breaths

Mook was shook to death nigga I shook death

Plus I kept paper, Nikes ain't the only place they put checks

Rappers are all game

But not for the long range

I got to get paid before I get played like LeBron James

This nigga's songs lame

Beats that he rap to ain't tight

Mookie I can't see the picture if the tracking ain't right

Don't care if I'm in a block full of caine

Or locked in some chains

Wherever I'm at they're gonna know I'm in the spot like your stains

From my socks to my frames

Watch to the chain

And you couldn't look fly

If you dropped from a plane

Me popped outta chains?

Nigga pop gotta change nigga

Loaded Lux getting paper

Hate the game not the playa

I'm from Harlem where we money make

Every hour movin' powder that's what I call getting funnel cake

And his girl got an ass that she wanna shake

So I'ma fill it up with more pipes than a tunnel take

Mu gun a break loose

If he wanna wait he running late

This your try-out how many shots you really wanna take?

Hey he don't like low

He wanna catch me in bed wet me with lead

Murda me in it

Have me down at the emergency clinic

I'ma kick in doors and buck rounds from his ruger

He tried exit out his windows

He was better off shutting down his computer

Lux now he a shooter

Guns is better

When that nine load Mook ain't got to die old but he'll stay young forever

He like Peter Pan in Never Never Land

My butter's like Peter Pan it's thick and very tan

My block is plain I'm docking planes

Hitting every land

I've sat between more jet fans than in the Meadowlands

That's why all his hoes is flocking in groups and they friends want me

The only time Mook knocking the boots is when his Tims dusty

He lying to them hoochies

Only time I throw a G in their face

Is when they wanna see the time on the Gucci

Yea I shine with some rubies

You can eyeball and screw me

Really b you killing me?

That's like dying in a movies

Closest you been to the burner

Was in your deli by the griddle

Nigga all your biscuits got jelly in the middle

I know you like the way I'm talking I got torpedo probably

Your whole click'll get to dippin like a tortilla party

Round 8

Murda Mook

I just got in the game

Already these guys is cock-holding

Probably cause I'm in the G-5 with rocks bulging

And your girl saw me she tried to stop scoping

And then the button on her Levis was popped open

I'm not joking, every club I post in

I leave with a token of love deep-throating

The wrist worth twenty, neck worth sixty

Whole industry tryna network with me

16s a hundred and 8 cost fifty

Take it or leave it

My patience is ceasing

I'ma drop an album every change in the season

Provoke me all I need's a flame and a reason

My fan base leaning you know what it do

When the other's ears(?) raw they wanna cop one through

Pop you got a gun I got one too

It's just yours can chip concrete

Mines can pop one through

I leave a nigga jail bed stiff

And bury him with his weight bench so he really can dead lift

I'm not one of them friends you play with

Fuck feathers I got a tech in my coat for my insulation

Yea I rap, play ball got a scholarship to go to school

Stack 8 balls but nothing that got to do with pool

I put your lights out faster than your Con Ed

I take a C-4 strap it to your mom's bed

Your girl mad at you

Nothing to do with John said

She ain't say your dick was small

She said you had long legs

There's so much drama in this industry

It's kinda hard being M-U-R-D-A

Is on my ass cause everything I say

Always seems to get in their way yea ok

I'ma still say my shit, push my whips

I got a seven so quick I nicknamed it Vick

The strip, please I complete the fiends

They call me Clive, your boy got at least a key (Alicia Keys & Clive Davis)

I'm a P.I.M.P. give a chip to a chick never me, not your dog

It's not in my pedigree

But him? Please

Just so she can go browsing

He do like the soap, probably leave her two thousand (Lever 2000)

I see your two thousand Mook is a star

Yo dude those ain't shoes those boots on your car

Wanna talk where I live

The shit too big

Every day I find another room inside my crib, faggot

Loaded Lux

I got my cash straight, this shit moving like a drag race

I hit chicks with the baddest shapes yo chicks are in bad shape

How you have dates with bitches with that face?

Nah Mook you fucking bitches Shaq weight

You lack cake

Cause you might as well sell jokes with that David Chappelle coke

That shit you got is half-baked

It's no wonder that's your husband

I wouldn't trust her judgement

I saw what she did with her mouth

I know she got bad taste

That shit you popping might

Get your face looking like hockey ice

Sliced up, plus we pack like jockey tights

Beans ain't got nothing on the way your girl rock the mic

Thirsty she keep hollering at me like she Bobby Knight

This nigga not as nice and they say we a lot alike

Mook you insulting me youngin don't even talk to me

Walk with me this is a sport for me

Cause when the labels press units

Trust me sell out, just do it

Bottom line every rhyme from top to bottom line

Hot and I ain't gotta sign, the boy bout dollar signs

This nigga broke

You ain't gotta dime bitches

Mook like I said you ain't gotta dime

You are outta line today

We bought watches outta town, you know

Spent a little time away

This nigga hating

Chill let me take my mind off it

Cause your neck

I don't wanna take your mind off it

I caught him in the spot

And the can jammed on him

What made it even worse is how his man ran on him

Scrammed on him I ain't even put hands on him

My guns sound like they got hands on it

We sold songs you got your stroll on

Family like Manny I got my roll on

But Mook keep talking I'm like why y'all amp?

We all about balling like five star camps

But we don't play games no whistles or refs near...

What did we miss? Let us know in the comments below and we'll update it.

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