Murder on My Mind - The Jacka

Ya know what I’m sayin

I live my life outside of comfortable

I might as well wear house slippers out here nigga

Amongst these rivals and shit

It’s real shit man

Yo

Dippin', mind on my riches

36 shots in my clip and this shit rip

Listen, you can hear death reppin'

Riddin' in his 72 caprice with his weapon

Yeah and his name is Husalah

Manifesting the real, bringing death to suckas

It’s classic, the words of a psycho

Hand on my rifle, tucked by the lightpole

Itching to take blood

Waiting to take life from haters with slanderous tongues

I like fights, but it’s fun to handle a gun

Niggas been rich, been on the run, been on one

My satanic cannon is tragic

Everytime I grab it, brraaap and it’s tragic

Yeah, I’m smiling, riding in my drop

Over a hundred thow wow, shuttin down parking lots, nigga

They didn’t believe me

When I told them I was crazy, crazy

Ridin' in my hundred thousand dollar car

Mind on my murder

All I think about is murder lately, lately

You wanna get fly like a gangsta

Push pies like a gangsta

But you scared to die like a gangsta

And when it’s really going down

You niggas ain’t around

Mac 9 11, down to ring go 60 rounds

Know I can spit like rapid round or slow it down

Pop em off with that slow flow, that old show

I pull up on fo’s up in the owes, broke

Bitches on my dick but all I give a shit about is coke

I’m in the mothafucking kitchen whippin'

Doin' things with this heroin that’s not to mention

Cross country shippin', money is flippin'

Loadin' up these clips for these niggas that’s snitching

Bitch, my shit rip like a jimmy that don’t fit

I told ya’ll niggas that’s it’s Husalah

Ridin' in my shit tryna' murder mothafuckas

Ridin' round town tryna' murder mothafuckas

Murder isn’t easy

But when you do it once, you can do it a million times

Take a million lives

Sellin' dope is easy

But when you get caught, ask yourself can you do your time

Or snitch and die, this is why

I, don’t sleep

Keep a long thing that’s at least 3 feet

People die everyday cause they instincts weak

When you do fail to think then you’re playing for defeat

This is real life

And the things that people do is real trife

More often than not, the results this is your life

I’m on my way to the federal correctional

Climb in my SL 5 every late night

Thinkin' how my life is miraculous

Ex-kingpin getting rich from this rap shit

In 94 I sold my soul for that crack shit

In 99 I found out that was black shit

Graduated to bricks, wrote a plan, and attacked it

Got rich, but the end was a classic

Young dope dealer duckin feds in the traffic

Young dope dealer duckin feds in the traffic

Got convicted so now I can rap it

Most of these rappers never did it so they actin

They was never even seen on the set

All of they time was gangbanging on the internet

But the SL 500 is real

The two point 7−6's will take of yo grill

By the time this comes out I’m a be locked up

But the mob still got shit locked up

You gonna get tired of hiding, try to come outside

That’s the night your bitch ass gonna get popped up

Ya know what I’m sayin'

They can’t fuck with this cake shit

Now you believe me cause you realize that you’re scared to die

From a homicide, homicide

I’m ridin' in a hundred-thousand dollar car

Going crazy

All I think about is murder lately, lately

Yeah, yeah

Once a-motherfuckin-gain