Song: Murder Mommy
Artist:  Styles P
Year: 2012
Viewed: 85 - Published at: 8 years ago

[Verse 1: Styles P]
So authentic, sittin' in a bullshit apartment that was rented and my soul's tormented
Big pile of coke, A grimey ass bitch I don't trust for a minute cause her nose is all in it
Shit is for sale though, my man went to jail though, got 50 birds, ten guns, weed, and a scale yo
She hit me on the jack right, I was in the lab blowin' ak right, in the booth tryna' get my stacks right
She said come through, cause dinner is lookin' mad nice. She went to shop right, and got the chicken for half price
I'm like "This bitch don't cook", and me and her don't eat, so I know shits sweet
Yeah, my mans went to jail, I know he's up shit's creek. She got keys in the crib, I'll get 'em off this week
So I hop in the truck yo, blowin' on a dutch yo, know I shouldn't do it but, I don't give a fuck though

[Hook: Styles P]
If you fuck with a murder mommy, you gon' fuck around and have to murder mommy. I'll do it greazy like I never hearda' mommy. Glade big poppa, you deal with a murder mommy

[Verse 2: Styles P]
She said they're 12.5, I got 125 on me. I could buy 10, break it down, let 'em dive on me
250 will get me twenty though, shit ain't lookin' funny though, nigga need money though
Half a million can get me 40. Me and my lil' shorty can kick it like Berry Gordy
Soon as I thought it, heard a knock at the door, pause..... Heard a loud cock at the door. (Gun-Cocks)
That sounds like a colt .45, Government issue, I'm thinkin' that, I don't wanna die
My shit is on my side, pulled it out, hit her in the eye. Gun-butt the dumb slut when I die
Door flew in, so did the masked dudes, cash rules, fuck that, we all gonna' blast tools
They hit, she hit, I'm good, some G shit. Left with the cash and the coke, S.P shit!
[Hook]

( Styles P )
www.ChordsAZ.com

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