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    Текст песни Willie D - Recipe 4 A Murder

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    Слова песни:
    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
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