Lyrics of Murder man

(pastor troy)
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Yeah, this for da clones in the atl,
With them fake a** chains,
For all the flexy a** ni**az comin' outta atlanta,
Verse 1
Iiiii'm comin, 2 50 cal's in hand,
Long goatee's ni**a da taliban,
I'll murda man, i'm tryin to murk somethin,
This aint no chuck e cheese,
I'm tryin to hurt somethin',
These ni**az claimin g's, claimin' they run the south, please..
How you run this sh** in them butt fu** caprice,
Atleast you outta know bout' my thrown,
The p the t the r the o the y,
Ni**a i'm so fly call me jet,
Jump off in the ocean still aint wet,
I flex i mothafu**in ball betta ax em,
Catch a ni**a talkin sh**,
Motherfu**in blast em,
Murda, m - u - r - d - a,
I'm pumpin gats at whoever in the way,
I got the gunplay, don't think they understand,
Don't think they wanna fu** with the murda man.
Chorus
I don't think they wanna fu** with the murda man, fu** with the murda man
Fu** with the murda man
(well ah haaaa) (x 4)
Verse 2
Yaaaaa'll trippin',
Not everybody crunk,
Yall' ni**az gonna make me pop tha trunk,
Cause i remember way back in the day, when the atl was'nt gettin no play,
Then i came out, drop, we ready,
Ni**az went to bouncin',
Ridin' dem box chevys,
But i guess that was then,
This is now.... when i catch ya a** in the street, the guns plow,
I represent the heart,
I represent the anger,
I represent the real,
I represent the danger,
I represent the cars,
I represent the dream,
I represent repect,
I'm representin my team,
It's pistol pt, aka the murda man,
Ya pistol's in ya car,
My pistol's in my hand,
And you can ask jan,
I shot a ni**a ran,
Don't think you understand, i'm the fu**in' murda man(haaaa)
Chours(x 4)

Verse 3
Stiiiiiill spinnin',
Empty my magazine,
I jump off in my limozine, and fleet the scene,
This aint the swat team,
This aint' lil scrappy and them,
I love that hard sh**,
And fu** a platinum,
And lil jon', used to be my homie, used to be my ace,
Now i wanna slap tha taste, out yo mouth,
Ni**a down south i'm a legend,
When u see me, keep mothafu**in' steppin,
They flexin... so what u got a a(atl) hat ni**a?
That don't mean sh**,
To a southside killa,
What's up shay, what's up toadd,
On that air, shady park,
Murda, m - u - r - d - a,
I'm bustin' shots at whoever in my way,
Cockin' my a.k.,
Don't think they understand.. but i don't think they wanna fu** with the murda man(haaaa)
Chorus(x 4)
(well ah haaaa)