Meyhem Lauren & DJ Muggs – Redrum

Fuck these niggas

[Chorus]
Yo, take the trash out, take the mask out
Take the gloves out, fuck it, take the snubs out
Niggas act crazy and we kill ’em
Son, they gotta pay the funeral home to bill ’em
Yo, take the trash out, take the mask out
Take the gloves out, fuck it, take the snubs out
Niggas act crazy and we kill ’em
Son, they gotta pay the funeral home to bill ’em

[Verse 1]
Fuck these bitch niggas, some gotta die, it’s all basic
One shot’ll take a man out, it’s not wasted
Niggas act crazy, and niggas gotta go
Shoot ’em in the face, leaves ’em six feet below
I’m all about [?], I go to war to keep my peace
Why the fuck you think I keep my piece
Don’t ever take kindness for weakness
This Mac-10’ll show you just how cold the streets is
Fuck a red, catch a holo-tip heart attack
Let the chrome turn you right into an artifact
Fake use to [?] moves and move cowardly
Now you got your life taken by reality

[Chorus]
Yo, take the trash out, take the mask out
Take the gloves out, fuck it, take the snubs out
Niggas act crazy and we kill ’em
Son, they gotta pay the funeral home to bill ’em

[Verse 2]
Play the shadows like Bartolome Moya
If I kill, case closed, no need for a lawyer
I look in your eyes and see lavender
I don’t give a fuck about the depth of a scavenger
Kill ’em, leave they head slumped on the wheel
Throw some work in the car and make it look like a deal
Cameras make it harder to kill
So when you pointin’ your steel make sure you guardin’ your grill
Uh, fuck ’em, buck ’em, buck ’em, send ’em home
Shoot these niggas up and lay ’em down with the chrome
And they say life’s priceless, but your life’s worthless
This nigga gotta go big, go home with the surface
I’ll kill ’em

[Chorus]
Yo, take the trash out, take the mask out
Take the gloves out, fuck it, take the snubs out
Niggas act crazy and we kill ’em
Son, they gotta pay the funeral home to bill ’em

[Verse 3]
18,000 count cotton, you soft
Niggas be actin’ mad live ’til they got knocked off
Uh, takes a rifle to stop your life cycle
Death isn’t jail, your friends cannot write you
Ain’t no fuckin’ tellin’ what the guns do
But you know my niggas study Sun Tzu
I’ll leave you with your [?] and your dome
But take your Jordans off so we can put a tag on your toe, bitch

[Chorus]
Yo, take the trash out, take the mask out
Take the gloves out, fuck it, take the snubs out
Niggas act crazy and we kill ’em
Son, they gotta pay the funeral home to bill ’em

Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks – Ryu X Ken

[Hook: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
Chapters of the same road, just a different page
We moving off the same high, smoking different haze
Either go to jail or we gotta face the grave
It’s all about this money, dog, we in a new fade
I’ma die where I stand, I’m a different type of guy
Birds in the air, I’m a different type of fly
Where I’m from, niggas like to judge based off your supply
And they scared to show you love till they feel you ’bout to die

[Verse 1: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
Bye to the corner, you know I love tours
Bye to that bitch ’cause you know I hate whores
New women, new states, money coming different ways
Yankee pendant on the chain, you wasn’t there, you can’t relate
I remember, won’t forget, it was year 0-12
Shows OT, still got it wholesale
Man, we had the city jumping like Supreme Clientele
New New York niggas, B, we like the Holy Grail
Chitty chat, fuck the chitty chat, fuck that
I ain’t trying to bring the city back… Why Bamz?
We the ones with the massive plan
Why these fronting niggas pose in pictures for the ‘Gram?
They pussy? Don’t forget we was there from the gate, though
I sold coke right before I went to Santos
And sold out, so let’s talk about alumni
Acid on my tongue, I was dead high

[Hook: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
Chapters of the same road, just a different page
We moving off the same high, smoking different haze
Either go to jail or we gotta face the grave
It’s all about this money, dog, we in a new fade
I’ma die where I stand, I’m a different type of guy
Birds in the air, I’m a different type of fly
Where I’m from, niggas like to judge based off your supply
And they scared to show you love till they feel you ’bout to die

[Verse 2: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
When the Fair and the Tan link up, they can’t deny it
Pockets looking slim like they on a liquid diet
And I know it ain’t right for me to swear to God
But I swear to God, I’m the best with it, dog
Man, you know we got the recipe, dog
Shit was written in stone, we on our own, we defying the odds
And I know it ain’t right for me to talk shit about them
But I swear, shit hurting me, dog
Tan flag, with the gold around my neck
Everybody show respect when I come thru, chiefing on the set
I done came thru for [?], I done came thru to humble
I done came thru to come thru
I came in like a dad, I’ma son you
When I draw no R, fuck a Sun Tzu
Me and mines got love for you
You my blood, I take a slug for you, talk to ’em, nigga

[Hook: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
Chapters of the same road, just a different page
We moving off the same high, smoking different haze
Either go to jail or we gotta face the grave
It’s all about this money, dog, we in a new fade
I’ma die where I stand, I’m a different type of guy
Birds in the air, I’m a different type of fly
Where I’m from, niggas like to judge based off your supply
And they scared to show you love till they feel you ’bout to die