Lyrics
(Pastor Troy)ooh, ooh, oohyeah, this for da clones in the
ATL,With them fake a** chains,
For all the flexy ass niggas comin' outta
Atlanta, Verse 1iiiii'm comin, 2 50 cal's in hand,long goatee's ****in da taliban,i'll murda man, i'm tryin to murk somethin,this aint no chuck e cheese,i'm tryin to hurt somethin
These niggas claimin'
G's, claimin' they run the south, please..
How you run this shit in them butt **** caprice,
Atleast you outta know bout' my thrown,the
P the T the
R the O the
Y, bitch i'm so fly call me jet,jump off in the ocean still aint wet
I flex I mother****in' ball betta ax em, catch a nigga talkin' shit, mother****in' blast em
Murda, M -
U - R - D -
A,i'm pumpin gats at whoever in the way,
I got the gunplay, don't think they understand,don't think they wanna **** with the
Murda Man.
ChorusI don't think they wanna **** with the murda man, **** with the murda man, **** with the murda man(well ah haaaa) (x 4)
Verse 2, y'all trippin', not everybody crunk, y'all niggas gonna make me pop tha trunk, cause
I remember way back in the day, when the
ATL was'nt gettin no play,then
I came out, drop, we ready, niggas went to bouncin', ridin' dem box chevys,
But I guess that was then,
This is now.... when
I catch ya a** in the street, the guns plow,
I represent the heart,
I represent the
Anger,I represent the real,
I represent the danger,
I represent the cars,
I represent the dream,
I represent repect,
I'm representin my team,it's
Pistol PT, aka the
Murda Man,
Ya pistol's in ya car,
My pistol's in my hand,and you can ask
Jan, I shot a nigga ran, don't think you understand, I'm the ****in'
Murda Man(haaaa)
Chours(x 4)
Verse 3Stiiiiiill spinnin',empty my magazine,
I jump off in my limozine, and fleet the scene,
This aint the swat team,this aint' lil scrappy and them,
I love that hard shit,and **** a platinum,and lil jon', used to be my homie, used to be my ace,no
I wanna slap tha taste, out yo mouth,bitch down south i'm a legend,when u see me, keep mother****in' steppin,they flexin... so what u got
A(ATL) Hat bitch?that don't mean shit,to a southside killa
What's up
Shay, what's up toadd,
On that air, shady park,
Murda, M -
U - R - D -
A,i'm bustin' shots at whoever in my way,cockin' my a.k.,don't think they understand..
But I don't think they wanna **** with th
Murda Man(haaaa)
Chorus(x 4)(well ah haaaa)
ATL,With them fake a** chains,
For all the flexy ass niggas comin' outta
Atlanta, Verse 1iiiii'm comin, 2 50 cal's in hand,long goatee's ****in da taliban,i'll murda man, i'm tryin to murk somethin,this aint no chuck e cheese,i'm tryin to hurt somethin
These niggas claimin'
G's, claimin' they run the south, please..
How you run this shit in them butt **** caprice,
Atleast you outta know bout' my thrown,the
P the T the
R the O the
Y, bitch i'm so fly call me jet,jump off in the ocean still aint wet
I flex I mother****in' ball betta ax em, catch a nigga talkin' shit, mother****in' blast em
Murda, M -
U - R - D -
A,i'm pumpin gats at whoever in the way,
I got the gunplay, don't think they understand,don't think they wanna **** with the
Murda Man.
ChorusI don't think they wanna **** with the murda man, **** with the murda man, **** with the murda man(well ah haaaa) (x 4)
Verse 2, y'all trippin', not everybody crunk, y'all niggas gonna make me pop tha trunk, cause
I remember way back in the day, when the
ATL was'nt gettin no play,then
I came out, drop, we ready, niggas went to bouncin', ridin' dem box chevys,
But I guess that was then,
This is now.... when
I catch ya a** in the street, the guns plow,
I represent the heart,
I represent the
Anger,I represent the real,
I represent the danger,
I represent the cars,
I represent the dream,
I represent repect,
I'm representin my team,it's
Pistol PT, aka the
Murda Man,
Ya pistol's in ya car,
My pistol's in my hand,and you can ask
Jan, I shot a nigga ran, don't think you understand, I'm the ****in'
Murda Man(haaaa)
Chours(x 4)
Verse 3Stiiiiiill spinnin',empty my magazine,
I jump off in my limozine, and fleet the scene,
This aint the swat team,this aint' lil scrappy and them,
I love that hard shit,and **** a platinum,and lil jon', used to be my homie, used to be my ace,no
I wanna slap tha taste, out yo mouth,bitch down south i'm a legend,when u see me, keep mother****in' steppin,they flexin... so what u got
A(ATL) Hat bitch?that don't mean shit,to a southside killa
What's up
Shay, what's up toadd,
On that air, shady park,
Murda, M -
U - R - D -
A,i'm bustin' shots at whoever in my way,cockin' my a.k.,don't think they understand..
But I don't think they wanna **** with th
Murda Man(haaaa)
Chorus(x 4)(well ah haaaa)