Gun Talk

[Intro: Ja Rule] Hustlers Killas and drug dealers Pimp's, hoes And all over the globe [Hook] When bitch niggas get you off the grind, nigga grab the nine and When fake niggas try to cop the style, cock the 40 cal and Well if you don't like the way its going down, nigga grip the pound And if there's more than one that got to go, grab the calico and [Verse 1: Ja Rule] Real talk, The Inc about to run New York Cause there's no real niggas left to hold the torch Who gon' hold us off, cause you don't read newspapers nigga Let Ja tell it, that's Murder Inc boys, that's real killers Money laundering, tax evading and drug dealers Backed by Kenneth McGriff, you can't be serious We just niggas getting money, fucking all the bitches And life and death can be a matter of inches You know That fo' fo' that handle his business Like capital gains, reload and hit them with interest Damn What so gangsta about these niggas Now I got the full speed niggas, led Leave them dead over bread, or head Cause we done fucking these same bitches And you know they talk, and the pillows be my witness My goodness Niggas can't be this stupid It's gun talk, niggas better get used to it [Hook] [Verse 2: Black Child] I don't care if you a criminal or cop, shoot or get shot I'm raised by the block, product of the haze The gauge and the Glock, and I keep a blade I ain't afraid if it pop, the gauge still a gun Married murder one, sleep with the fishes Tasting red rum, young and corrupted Nothing to fuck with, straight out of the gutter With no introduction Our role models was forced with hollows Fuck slothes the swallow the fifth a holla The witness Impala Weed twisting ganja Load up the clip's and flip the corner They wanna be mourners, they goners We gangster, gangster point and blank ya' Thank ya' Niggas keep me in the mood To eat a nigga food I murder with Rule, bomb! [Hook] [Verse 3: Ja Rule] The nine, the cal, the pound, the co', niggas The weed is dope, the E, the coke, niggas The game is mine is all I know I've been doing this since 9 6, the oldies know This tough load, the 3 8 o's, I let my hoes hold Keep it in their purses, in case of illegal searching They got worship God, and trust the gun Ask for your forgiveness, and send niggas up Fucking stick niggas up, these bitch niggas touch It's all about violence, real niggas is silent And know these niggas whose guns got low mileage Got ducked taped, hog tied up in their houses I'll make you watch while I fuck the spouse This ain't business, it's personal, gun talk When I holla you the first to know How many hoes, and how much blood has been lost cause [Hook] [Outro: Irv Gotti] Yeah Murder INC We right here motherfuckers