Lyrics of ' Murda Something (Feat. Wacka Flocka Flame) ' by A$AP Ferg

A$AP Ferg, Waka Flocka

Some say I'm possessed, that's why Christ on my chest
I'm from the Southside so I throw up the S
Disrespect, I lay you to rest
Boy you ass, you softer than breast
Bloody murder, I lay you to rest
Aim for the head ain't no need for a vest
Can't nothing protect you from this tec
Street educated, no use for G-tech
Niggas be talking but really don't want it
Put shells in your stomach, like pussy you wet
Flocka like Rambo, I stay with the ammo
Test me, that's a gamble like Russian Roulette
I stay with them commas, I been through the drama
You going to war, you better invest
Fuck is a K? I ain't impressed
Got thousands of shooters I pay just to flex

Niggas say I'm real, bitches say I'm hot
Disrespect the Mob or Squad, then you get shot
We don't dial 9-1-1, we don't fuck with cops
1-8-7 to the fuckin' ops
(Ain't afraid to murda something)

Ain't afraid to murda something, put 'em in a hearse or something
I'm thinking you niggas is sweet, like a Starburst or something
Get 'em a purse or something, might get 'em in church or something
We heard the deacon speaking, I'm Donnie McClurkin frontin'
I smell pussy, them niggas hurt your cousin
All my people say "Stomp!" like I'm Kirk or something
Put 'em in the dirt like "Work" or something, he get on my nerves so fuck him
You turn ass like Tahiry when I pressed your buttons
And that was no diss, niggas quick for discussion
Y'all quick for the tweeting, y'all quick to be tumbling
How about a Vine, 2 clips to your spine and Instagram pics of me dumping
I'm feeling your bitch so I'm fucking, I skeet-skeet like it's nothing

Niggas say I'm real, bitches say I'm hot
Disrespect the Mob or Squad, then you get shot
We don't dial 9-1-1, we don't fuck with cops
1-8-7 to the fuckin' ops
(Ain't afraid to murda something)

It's a homicide, a bloody murder
All my niggas down to murder
187 on the op, that's a fallen soldier

I'm finna get buck and start bringing the burner
Now I'm beating that ass like Ike did Turner
You sit in a box, you sleep in a hearse
Wherever you from, that's my turf
Fergie Ferg and I'm putting in work
Young Flocka Flame gon' put 'em in the dirt
Sipping on the Henny and a nigga go berserk
Couple bitches gave me brain, then I skeet on they skirt

Yeah Ferg, you nasty
Pay attention, focus on what we came for
Got the drop on a nigga, got the info
Soon as I hop out then go click-clack, then go bang

Niggas say I'm real, bitches say I'm hot
Disrespect the Mob or Squad, then you get shot
We don't dial 9-1-1, we don't fuck with cops
1-8-7 to the fuckin' ops
(Ain't afraid to murda something)