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letra de slapperz & clapperz - nwm cee murdaa

[intro: nwm cee murdaa]
([?] music)
murdaa!
what? (frrt, frrt)
frrt (walk down), ayy, ayy, ayy
(f-ck all these n-ggas, f-ck all the goofies)
ayy
(gang, gang)
ayy

[chorus: nwm cee murdaa]
if it ain’t slappin’, you don’t even need a phone
if her ass ain’t clappin’, then why should i take her home?
i swear these n-ggas h-lla’ tender, see ’em fallin’ off the bone
put up racks for the winter, now it’s summer, b-tches on
n-ggas say they havin’ drip, well, cheap n-gga, put it on
(put that sh-t on, put that sh-t on) well, n-gga, put it on
my n-gga just came home from the feds and i put him on
gave him five p’s, you don’t owe me, n-gga, get it gone

[verse 1: nwm cee murdaa]
don’t shake it like you do on your story, b-tch, is that a clone
i wanna hеar it clap-clap-clappin’ all day long
had one down, b-tch, don’t love her, i don’t liе to hoes
miss my other b-tch, so i had to say goodbye to hoes
(brrt-brrt-brrt-brrt-brrrrt) that’s the brick phone
(brrt-brrt-brrt-brrt-brrrrt) that’s the zip phone
(frrt-frrt-frrt-frrt-grrah) i let the switch blow
treat the goofies like weed, we got highs and got lows
let me know what to deliver, say you need a whole load
i don’t trust a n-gga, i’ll let you in, no, you can’t get the code
i don’t trust hoes, even my b-tch ain’t even got the code
give a b-tch fifty pillows, make her ass hit the road
b-tches be more solid than these n-ggas
if a n-gga run up on me, man, i’m quick to pull the trigger
bullets hot, you don’t get shot, then yo’ ass gon’ leave wit’ blisters
but i barely graze n-ggas, always hit n-ggas
[chorus: nwm cee murdaa]
if it ain’t slappin’, you don’t even need a phone
if her ass ain’t clappin’, then why should i take her home?
i swear these n-ggas h-lla’ tender, see ’em fallin’ off the bone
put up racks for the winter, now it’s summer, b-tches on
n-ggas say they havin’ drip, well, cheap n-gga, put it on
(put that sh-t on, put that sh-t on) well, n-gga, put it on
my n-gga just came home from the feds and i put him on
gave him five p’s, you don’t owe me, n-gga, get it gone

[verse 2: myaap]
she gon’ shake that dummy ass, make that booty jiggle
she gon’ drop it ’till it split, make that booty wiggle
gotta’ stay focused, keep my head on a swivel
he say he love the way i smirk, and the way i giggle
bum-ass n-gga, who is you?
brodie got that dog on him like scooby-doo
n-gga beat down my line, that’s what the coochie do
b-tches always in my business, but they p-ssy loose
yeah, b-tches be junkies, why you sippin’ on that juice?
i’m the real myaap, all you other b-tches dupes’
really ’bout my paper, ’bout my chicken, and my loot
you would think i was crip the way i rock all this blue
i’m really in my bag and these b-tches mad
she gon’ throw it back, she gon’ make it clap
if i’m on the beat, you know that sh-t slaps
fat cat, throw it back, sit it on his lap, baow
[chorus: nwm cee murdaa]
if it ain’t slappin’, you don’t even need a phone
if her ass ain’t clappin’, then why should i take her home?
i swear these n-ggas h-lla’ tender, see ’em fallin’ off the bone
put up racks for the winter, now it’s summer, b-tches on
n-ggas say they havin’ drip, well, cheap n-gga, put it on
(put that sh-t on, put that sh-t on) well, n-gga, put it on
my n-gga just came home from the feds and i put him on
gave him five p’s, you don’t owe me, n-gga, get it gone

[outro: nwm cee murdaa]
mm, get ’em gone
uh, mm, uh, uh, uh, n-gga, get ’em gone
ayy, ayy, n-gga, get it gone
if she ain’t shake it, n-gga, then why then would i take her home?

- nwm cee murdaa

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