Recipe 4 A Murder Lyrics

Recipe 4 A Murder lyrics

featuring Sho  

  

 Verse 1: [Willie D]  

 Motherfuckers are dying  

 And getting buried in the cemetary  

 Cause they ass couldn't pass the preliminaries  

 That's when you mind your own  

 Stay in line and keep the fuck out of mine  

 Cause goddamn I ain't got it all  

 This year I'm a fuck off a whole lot of y'all  

 There was a body found in a lake  

 Butt naked, wrapped in duct tape  

 And the #1 suspect came from a broken home  

 That ain't been fixed yet  

 You got family, ah that's beautiful  

 I want to see them at your goddamn funeral  

 Along with your bitch and your friends  

 Cause I'm a view the body, and pop your ass again  

 No I'm not dick riding the chronic like the others  

 I'm just the wrong motherfucker  

 For a nigga to play with or say shit  

 Behind my back, cause nigga that's gay shit  

 I'll make a nigga drop his pants then buck him  

 Throw him in the ditch and let the dope fiends fuck him  

 I can't charge it to the game  

 Cause the game never paid Willie D a goddamn thing  

 I'm talking about a cold-blooded murder  

 You never heard of a recipe for a murder  

  

 Chorus:  

 Lay your guns down  

 You don't want to see me clown  

 One shot to your dome  

 Two shots, now you're gone  

 (2x)  

  

 Verse 2: [Sho]  

 Niggas I'm smooth  

 But watch me move on this groove  

 About niggas getting they ass misused  

 I'm a soldier, I don't start trouble see  

 But somehow man the shit just find me  

 Now take a nigga talking shit  

 Better yet he talking shit to me  

 Trying to impress one of his homies  

 A front for a bitch that I done already fucked  

 And to this day I can still get my dick sucked  

 Mix that together with a hot ass club  

 And that's a little dish called a nigga getting his ass drugged  

 But my hands ain't enough  

 I gotta schedule you a wait  

 Give you two to the head for old times' sake  

 So don't fuck with me and don't fuck with this clique  

 Unless you ready to lay in front of a pulpit  

 With your mama crying listening to some verses being read  

 For you trying to catch lead with your head  

 Did you hear what I said?  

 I want to see some red, pronounce your punk ass dead  

 Now you can beg, give me your dope and your bitch  

 Suck my dick but it still won't change shit  

 Because I hate motherfuckers who talk trash  

 So don't let your mouth overload your ass  

 But some still gonna flex  

 And I'm a swing and connect  

 And it's gonna feel like a train wreck  

 I'm putting in work  

 Fucking with Sho you'll be the quietest nigga in the church  

 And if a bitch is in my mix then a nigga gotta hurt her  

 Bitches die too my recipe for a murder  

  

 [Willie D]  

 My recipe for a murder is simple  

 Fuck with Will and get one to your temple  

 So pull your motherfucking guns  

 And I'm a show you I'm the clean-up man in more ways than one  

 You got a posse, a thick clique  

 Cool, it makes it easier to hit me a bitch  

 I want to see you piss on yourself  

 And your eyes buck, for fucking with Wize Up  

 Cause there's too many studio gangsters making noise  

 Knowing that they're motherfucking choir boys  

 I'm coming from the south  

 I talk that talk, I walk that walk that fucks your ass off  

 Niggas try to deal with it  

 But got the fuck out of Dodge when they saw I was real with it  

 So if you're talking shit about the Gulf Coast  

 Suck a dead man's dick until you're comatose  

 And if a cop want to blast, we can blast  

 I'm a Tupac Shakur his ass  

 I'm talking about a cold blooded murder  

 You never heard of a recipe for a murder  

  

 Chorus (2x)  

  

 Verse 3: [Willie D]  

 Don't push me cause I'm close to the edge  

 I'm trying not to lose my head, but dig this  

 One nigga got got in the parking lot  

 Cause his punk ass ran me hot  

 Talking about he coming back  

 With his boys and his gat  

 But he ain't never coming back  

 See when a motherfucker threaten Willie D  

 I gotta fuck him off before he fuck off me  

 The trigger finger ain't never nervous  

 So unless you're sucking my dick, save the lip service  

 I know a gang of motherfuckers who done passed  

 For letting that mouth overload that ass  

 It's a wreath from the goddamn forest  

 Check out the motherfucking chorus  

  

 Chorus (2x)  

  

 Yeah, it's time for all you motherfuckers out there to wise up  

 Cause we handle our business on the records and the streets  

 Punk motherfuckers