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letra de murda season - cursed

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[cursed]
f-ck with the 9 cold shot up to yo head
grab my clique then get my bread
couple dollars make you dead
you be lookin like a lame
bust a slug up to yo brain
wash them guts down the drain
murderer dont got no fame
when i shoot this f-ckin flame
hollow points dont got no name
watch my hustle do my thang
down the block you hear the bang
ten toes f-ckin down
on this block i hold my ground
this silencer dont make a sound
you best know that i come around
if you dont know now you know you stupid hoe
do i gotta grab the gauge and let that mothaf-cka blow
bust a cap right through yo dome
when they find you on the floor
with no tag up on yo toe
when im movin on the low
always creepin with my tone
capped em like im al capone
like a dog i need my bone
one soldier overloan
motherf-ckers know the sound
you be slippin dead wrong
like a ghost in the bushes
murkin like im f-ckin gone

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