Murder Ain’t Crazy Lyrics – Spice 1
Singer: Spice 1
Title: Murder Ain’t Crazy
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
They’re callin’ me a lunatic but murder ain’t crazy
Yeah, yeah, haha, haha
What’s up, n#gg#?
Don’t look at me like you don’t know who I am
AmeriKKKa’s nightmare
Spice motherf#ckin’ 1, n#gg#
Young, Black, you know I don’t give a f#ck
Rina Sawayama “This Hell” Official Lyrics & Meaning | Verified
Old school drop Caddy, five, six n#gg#s
Rollin’ up in my rearview
With they fingers up on them triggers
Come, let’s take a trip
And hop into some gangsta sh#t with me
Thirteen caps for them n#gg#s who wanna get with me
Get at me, n#gg#s emptyin’ off clips at me
Wanna put some holes and some motherf#ckin’ rips in me
But I don’t give a f#ck, I just stay strapped
And be a soldier about that sh#t
When it comes to peelin’ them caps, n#gg#
So won’t you get your blast on
And if you miss me with your thirteen shots, n#gg#
Your #ss gone
‘Cause I’m gon’ hit you on that first shot
And then I ain’t gon’ stop
Until some m#th*rf#ck*rs call the cops
Then I’ll be 1-8-7 thousand like my song say
‘Cause you was f#ckin’ with this n#gg# on the wrong day
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
They’re callin’ me a lunatic but murder ain’t crazy
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
Sayin’ I’m a lunatic but murder ain’t crazy
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
They’re sayin’ I’m a lunatic but murder ain’t crazy
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
Murder ain’t crazy
See, I be raisin’ ’em up off the block with my AP-nitty
Quick to come wicked and bust some caps in my city
I comes with much clout
And never one n#gg# could take me out
Rollin’ ’em up like Levi’s
Cuff him and stuff him, eat ’em like bean pies
And n#gg#s be talkin’ that sh#t
But yo, ain’t none of ’em runnin’ up
I’m gunnin’ up the next n#gg#s feelin’ buck shots
I thought you n#gg#s knew
I’m finna smoke that n#gg# who stole my six-deuce
And when I gat that #ss, I’ma leave him lyin’ there
Cryin’ there, the m#th*rf#ck*r dyin’ there
And Mr. Lawrence better have insurance
‘Cause I’ma ga-uh-gat that #ss with the tourists
Rock-a-bye baby, goin’ crazy
Punk m#th*rf#ck*rs like you can’t fade me
Tryna squab with the clip and a trigger
Ol’ groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
Callin’ me a lunatic but murder ain’t crazy (Yeah)
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
Callin’ me a lunatic but murder ain’t crazy
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
They callin’ me a lunatic but murder ain’t crazy
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
They callin’ me a lunatic but murder ain’t crazy
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
Grabs my .4-5 and puts down my .380
I creep up on they #ss, tip-toe with the pump
Split a n#gg# down the middle like Phillie blunt
I keeps my strap by my side to keep n#gg#s in check
And all my posse pack Glock .9s, Uz’ thangs and TECs
You see we rolls down the block three o’clock in the morning
Indo got us gone and strap mobile phones
And about five ki’s in the back of the trunk
n#gg#s down #ss f#ck, but we don’t want no funk
‘Cause, uh, transportation is the sh#t we used to do
Had the whole shot, drop mob spot and crew
Ri-uh-ring on my motherf#ckin’ cellular
As I heard a n#gg# screamin’: “Get the f#ck out the car”
n#gg#, let me get my chronic and my indo sack
As my DJ Xtra Large blew that b#tch on his back
Runnin’ up on some players so I had to figure
He was a groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#
Groupie #ss b#tch type of n#gg#s can’t fade me
Sayin’ I’m a lunatic but murder ain’t crazy
Yeah, what’s up, n#gg#?
Y’all m#th*rf#ck*rs ain’t up on no real #ss G’s, huh, n#gg#
Peel a cap for the motherf#ckin’ strength
n#gg#, you don’t wanna f#ck with this
You don’t want none of this
Step back, n#gg#
Just listen
Watch, m#th*rf#ck*r
Look at some real #ss n#gg#s rip sh#t up
‘9-4
Punk #ss n#gg#
Yeah
Yeah
Back again with some of that murder sh#t
Spiggedy 1 whippin’ up on that #ss for ‘9-4 and ‘9-5, b#tch, haha
What y’all n#gg#s know about a real #ss G? Ha
I kicks gangsta sh#t daily, biatch
1-87 thousand, G
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Lyrics Spice 1 – Murder Ain’t Crazy
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