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...
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