Chorus: We world wide connected, and ya'll don't want to fuck with us In the streets we respected, so ya'll don't want to fuck wit us World wide connected nigga, ya'll don't want to fuck wit us We gangster ass niggaz and we hard to hit Murder Inc in the role who could fuck wit this
(Eastwood) It ain't no verse mother fuckers who fake east thugs Its murder Inc In the role nigga throw up your dub They show us love in the club real niggaz bossed up man We heavily intoxicated so toss it up Attacks your mind and your conscience Written to enhance this verbally thugs grammar I'm bout to touch the roof wit it Extraordinary and I was never ordinary in cemetery bisit my thugs in mortuaries End all most reality young name and 'Pac I'm a keep my heat tucked until my soul goes pop I hear a lot of niggaz rapping But there ain't that many rappers out there scraping and keep it cracking We keep it happening I'm a million out the gate No scratch that 8 from cd's to tapes we rock like earthquakes I'm Eastwood catch me dipping a Fleetwood like a g should Young Eastwood is so damn good
Chorus:
(Crooked I) Nigga think that I is raw spit Murder Inc in the role, we all sick So niggaz Involved get mauled quick as a dog and the raw gets you involved And I'm a draw quick, nigga awwww shit Punks talking lick I haul off quick Wit a sawed off kick It's like they fall off cliffs Y'all call it off before all y'all get stoned like you're fallen off in a raw mosh pit Get tossed in a ditch your coffin is sick While I floss in the awesomest whips and I toss in your chicks Your caution when your calling your six Cause your talk can get you crossed and lost in the mix I'm a pause in the bitch bossed in the pits Burn I serve niggaz stay off at ya clique Spend off with ya grip my land of gangreen You have the doctors taking your leg off of your hip Motherfucker!
Chorus:
(Ja Rule) All y'all niggaz need to get off my dick I spit it how I live it plus the flows real sick I got killers ranged from Compton to Cleveland World wide connected any type niggaz there's no breathing Give me the reason I put a halo throw your mental And give your the Holy Spirit and see you to gods temple I'm the avenging angle and earth be thy claim And Ja be thy name, I know your all praying For the day of my diminishing, Why don't somebody finish them off and put it right through his cross The X is the 50 ya'll got to be kidding me These niggaz is my sons I raised them from young Curtis and little Earl should of been little girls Cause they bitch made and they act like one of my itchbays Touche! The Rule is more than ready Gun heavy and world wide connected (feel me)
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