Murkin Season Lyrics - The Real Testament - Plies

Ey, I'd like to welcome all you motherfuckers man 

To the home of the goons, where the grave yards over crowded 

And where chopperz is a must 

You caught slippin' crackers goin' find your ass, not breathing 

100 wholes in your ass with your body leaking 

Nigga ridin' with 'em drums, nigga for a reason 

'Cause down here we in the middle of murking season 

Stay on your porch nigga if you ain't ready to make a shake 

'Cause this the home of the bodies, check the murder rate 

Money and ski's is the only, that'll be the murder case 

So you better kill him if you don't want him at your court date 

If you comin' you better come with 'em choppers and don't fake 

'Cause if you bullshit, you're the one that's getting erased 

This niggaz murikin' out pussy niggaz in broad day 

Where-ever you get caught slippin' at that's where you lay 

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And like they say nigga no face, no case 

As long as these goons are lurkin' these streets ain't safe 

The more rounds you shoot nigga the less aim it takes 

It's murkin' season so you pussies better stay out the way 

Murkin' season don't end, this shit year round 

It ain't never drop, murkin' season never slow down 

It's impossible to many choppers floating around 

These young niggaz they sick with it on that 4 pound 

Lil cuzin' 12 and all he talking is murkin' now 

Old lady said she got woke up by that chopper sound 

Say she got on her bed and laid back down 

From what I heard 'em crackers fired 120 rounds 

4 motha fuckin' dead bodies laying on the ground 

Niggaz bettin' on it now, who goin' get off first? 

Running your fuck box better, what how you choose your words 

Photos 

That nigga sending threats pussy, you got a lot of nerves 

Niggaz would leave your motherfuckin' brains on the burb 

This ain't the 80's dawg, niggaz getting murked 

Everywhere you turn you see dead niggaz ono t-shirts 

Everytime I pass by the grave yard I see a herse 

Not respecting these streets is what got you niggaz fucked 

That oussy nigga ain't about it, he just know how to bring tongue 

Runnin' your dick, suckin' lips would get you chopped up 

I know plenty niggaz like you that done got touched 

You talking loud 'cause you got a chopper nigga that ain't enough 

I know 100 niggaz that got choppers but only few would bust 

You got the mouth of a killa but you ain't got the guts 

You got the front game down packed but you ain't got the nuts 

You probably got off before but you ain't wack nothing 

This the wrong place to play games dawg, the streets real 

Trying to impress a mothafucker would get you nigga killed 

Murking season is official, now this shit for real