Connected - Ja Rule, Eastwood, Crooked I

Woooooo

Murder Inc Motherfucker

We world wide connected, and ya’ll don’t want to fuck with us

In the streets we respected, so ya’ll don’t want to fuck wit us

World wide connected nigga, ya’ll don’t want to fuck wit us

We gangster ass niggas and we hard to hit

Murder Inc in the role who could fuck wit this

It ain’t no verse mother fuckers who fake east thugs

Its murder Inc and the Row nigga throw up your dub

They show us love in the club real niggas bossed up man

We heavily intoxicated so toss it up

Attacks your mind and your conscience

Written to enhance this verbally thugs grammar

I’m bout to touch the roof wit it

Extraordinary and I was never ordinary in cemetery

Bisit my thugs in mortuaries

End all most reality young name and 'Pac

I’m a keep my heat tucked until my soul goes pop

I hear a lot of niggas rapping

But there ain’t that many rappers out there scraping and keep it cracking

We keep it happening

I’m a million out the gate

No scratch that 8 from cd’s to tapes we rock like earthquakes

I’m Eastwood catch me dipping a Fleetwood like a g should

Young Eastwood is so damn good

Nigga Crooked I is raw spit

Murder Inc. and the Row, we all sick

So all niggas involved get mauled quick as a dog, and the braul gets you to fall

Then I’ma draw quick, nigga awwww shit

Punks talking lip, I haul off quick

Wit a sawed off kick it’s like you fall off cliffs

Y’all call it off before all y’all get stomped

Like you’re fallen off in a raw mosh pit

Off in a ditch your coffin’ll sit

While I floss in the awesomest whips and I toss in your chicks

Your caution when your calling your six

Cause your talk can get you crossed and lost in the mix

I’m a pause in the bitch bossed in the pits

Burn I serve niggas stay off at ya clique

Spend off with ya grip my land of gangreen

You have the doctors taking your leg off of your hip

Motherfucker!

All y’all niggas need to get off my dick

I spit it how I live it plus the flows real sick

Bronchial eating

I got killers ranged from Compton to Cleveland

World wide connected air tight niggas there’s no breathing

Give me the reason I put a halo throw your mental

And give your the Holy Spirit and see you to gods temple

I’m the avenging angle and earth be thy claim

And Ja be thy name, I know your all praying

For the day of my diminishing

Why don’t somebody finish them off and put it right through his cross

The X’s The 50'S ya’ll gotta be kidding me

These niggas is my sons

Raised them from young

Curtis and lil earl, should of been little girls

Coz they bitchmade now they act like one of my itchbays

Touche the rule is more than ready

Gun heavy, and worldwide connected feel me?