Ja Rule
Gun Talk
[Intro: Ja Rule]
Hustlers
Killas and drug dealers
Pimp's, hoes
And all over the globe

[Hook]
When bitch n***as get you off the grind, n***a grab the nine and
When fake n***as try to cop the style, cock the 40 cal and
Well if you don't like the way its going down, n***a grip the pound
And if there's more than one that got to go, grab the calico and

[Verse 1: Ja Rule]
Real talk, The Inc about to run New York
Cause there's no real n***as left to hold the torch
Who gon' hold us off, cause you don't read newspapers n***a
Let Ja tell it, that's Murder Inc boys, that's real killers
Money laundering, tax evading and drug dealers
Backed by Kenneth McGriff, you can't be serious
We just n***as getting money, fucking all the bitches
And life and death can be a matter of inches
You know
That fo' fo' that handle his business
Like capital gains, reload and hit them with interest
Damn
What so gangsta about these n***as
Now I got the full speed n***as, led
Leave them dead over bread, or head
Cause we done fucking these same bitches
And you know they talk, and the pillows be my witness
My goodness
N***as can't be this stupid
It's gun talk, n***as better get used to it
[Hook]

[Verse 2: Black Child]
I don't care if you a criminal or cop, shoot or get shot
I'm raised by the block, product of the haze
The gauge and the Glock, and I keep a blade
I ain't afraid if it pop, the gauge still a gun
Married murder one, sleep with the fishes
Tasting red rum, young and corrupted
Nothing to fuck with, straight out of the gutter
With no introduction
Our role models was forced with hollows
Fuck slothes the swallow the fifth a holla
The witness Impala
Weed twisting ganja
Load up the clip's and flip the corner
They wanna be mourners, they goners
We gangster, gangster point and blank ya'
Thank ya'
N***as keep me in the mood
To eat a n***a food
I murder with Rule, bomb!

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Ja Rule]
The nine, the cal, the pound, the co', n***as
The weed is dope, the E, the coke, n***as
The game is mine is all I know
I've been doing this since 9 6, the oldies know
This tough load, the 3 8 o's, I let my hoes hold
Keep it in their purses, in case of illegal searching
They got worship God, and trust the gun
Ask for your forgiveness, and send n***as up
Fucking stick n***as up, these bitch n***as touch
It's all about violence, real n***as is silent
And know these n***as whose guns got low mileage
Got ducked taped, hog tied up in their houses
I'll make you watch while I fuck the spouse
This ain't business, it's personal, gun talk
When I holla you the first to know
How many hoes, and how much blood has been lost cause
[Hook]

[Outro: Irv Gotti]
Yeah
Murder INC
We right here motherfuckers