[Intro: Ja Rule]
It's Murda (Ha-ha-ha)
It's Murda
We back up in this motherfucker! (Word to mother)
It's Murda
Y'all know who we be
(Ayo don't let me catch you runnin' up out the back of BET either, n***a)
R.U.L.E. I.N.C
My n***a Fatal on the mutherfuckin' ones and twos
Holla back, you bitch ass n***as

[Verse 1: Ja Rule]
Yo, cock sucka', I get squat and post and cock the Nina
In the five series beamer, dump and lean ya
I fell off on a misdemeanor, ride red over black madina's
Take crazy for genius, hated like Jesus Christ
My weakness always been bad bitches
And new bills with creases, my thesis more than extraordinary
And that n***a that got shot nine times could tell ya that I don't give a fuck (Bitch ass n***a)
I don't give a fuck, God may I ask for your permission to take his life
This is grown man B.I., N.C. to R.U.L.E. is extraordinary
One for the ages we done sawed off the front of them gauges
To engage in combat (Bitch ass n***as)
To send you and Fem where your mom's at (You know)
Motherfucker you hear that
And I ain't talkin' 'bout them heavenly skies
I'm talkin' about fire from nines
Or maybe the (Come on) fifty cal' cause you like five-oh
Or maybe somewhere in Cal where you like to lay low
Your bitch made (I see y'all n***as) done heard about that bitch
You been slayin', (Motherfuckin' Murder Inc. [?] n***as) layin' up with, some where right off of Sunset
Y'all haven't heard yet that n***a change is loose
And I got proof, get it? I got Proof (Yeah, ha ha ha),
Vest is no use when we cock and flame
It's Murda, (Yeah) Murder Incorporated (Haha)
[DMX & Jay-Z sample]
It's Murda (yeah, Hussein Fatal n***a)
It's Murda

[Verse 2: Hussein Fatal]
Mothafuckas
Rule, these n***as crazy, reppin' him wit out me
A.I. a tha click, believe they won't win wit out me
Y'all small little homies, frail but bold
Went from base to some bullshit like "Jalen Rose"
Got my blind D.O.G's readin' brail in codes
Keep the heat in the winter I can't tell it's cold
Claim my set, pieced out flame the tech
Throw shots out n***as catch like "Wayne Cherbet"
Son of a gangsta, talk dirty son I'ma bang ya
I'm the truth with the ox, keep gum on the banger
Hussein, the only reason hoes chase tha thugs
N***a blade part two I got tha taste for blood
Log Fatal.com, see fatal drop bombs
More militant minded then y'all Fatal and 'pop mines
Clutchin' tha stick beam, suckin' tha stick green
Out tha window or tha sunroof, buckin' tha sixteen
You ain't a gangsta Em, this is gangsta shit
And 50 you ain't nuttin' but a gangsta bitch
Pac would have never did a song with no wanksta snitch
He confusin' y'all he ain't tha shit,,,,
We sex, money and murda you n***as
Ain't no playin' round with this rap shit
Banana clip, mack's spit bodies wrapped in plastic
Tha city where tha skinny n***as die (no)
You heard my dogs this is tha city where tha skinny n***as ride n***a
Plaaattt
[Outro: Hussein Fatal]
Hussein tha don
Believe we got this shit poppin' in this muthafucka
Rule what's good...
We get to tha muthafuckin' club you punk n***as walkin' out
Brick city, Rule, Rap-alot-mafia!
Murda!
Yound D, Merc
Exsaless
These n***as ain't ready for this gansta shit right here
We been doin' this shit for a long time
Ya'll n***as got the streets confused n***a
We been on this gansta thug shit
Bitch ass n***as you know what it is every time we touch tha muthafuckin' booth n***a
It's gon' be fire, fire on you n***as asses
N***as better gracefully bow tha fuck out n***a
Hussein Fatal n***a, Rap-alot-mafia, n***a
M.I.B. n***a, Murder Inc. bosses
Rule we here baby
Brick city Jers mob
Yeah
Shadow
Let's get it