| Iiiiiii’m comin, two .50 cal’s in hand |
| Long goat-tee nigga the Taliban |
| I’m Murda Man, I’m tryna murk somethin |
| This ain’t for ??? cheese I’m tryna hurt somethin |
| These niggas claimin g’z, claimin they run the South East |
| How you run the shit in that buck buck Caprice? |
| Atleast, you oughta know bout my flow |
| The P the T the R the O |
| The Y nigga, I’m so fly call me jet |
| Jump off in the ocean still ain’t wet |
| I flex, I motherfuckin ball better ask em |
| Catch a nigga talkin shit n motherfuckin blast em |
| Murda, m-u-r-d-a |
| Im pumpin gats at whoever in the way |
| Im back wit gun play, don’t think they undastand |
| But I don’t think they wanna fuck wit the Murda Man, Murda Man |
| I don’t think they wanna fuck with the Murda Man |
| Fuck wit the Murda Man, fuck wit the Murda Man, Well Uh-Huh |
| Yaaaaa’ll trippin, now everybody crunk |
| Yall niggas gon make me pop the trunk |
| Cuz I remember way back in the day |
| When the ATL wasn’t gettin no play |
| Then I came out, dropped We Ready |
| Niggas went to bouncin, ridin them box Chevy’s |
| But I guess that was then, this is now |
| When I catch ya ass in the street the gun blow, blow |
| I represent the hard, I represent the angle |
| I represent the real, I represent the danger |
| I represent the cars, I represent the dream |
| I represent respect, I’m representin my team |
| It’s Mister PT aka Murda Man |
| Ya pistol in ya car, my pistol in my hand |
| And you can ask Chan, I shot a nigga van |
| Dont think you understand, I’m the fuckin Murda Man, Murda Man and |
| Stiiiiiiiill spinnin, empty my magazine |
| I jump off in my limousine and flee the scene |
| This ain’t the SWAT team, this ain’t Lil Scrap n them |
| I rep that hard shit and fuck a platinum |
| And Little Jon, used to by homey, used to be my Ace |
| Now I wanna slap the the taste out ya mouth |
| Nigga down south I’m a legend |
| When ya see me keep motherfuckin steppin |
| And flexin, so what you gotta A at nigga |
| That don’t mean shit to a south side killa |
| Wussup Shay? wussup Tod? |
| On that ass, Shady Park |
| Murda, M-U-R-D-A |
| Im bustin shots at whoever in my way |
| Cockin my A-K, don’t think they understand |
| But I don’t think they wanna fuck wit the Murda Man, Murda Man, and |