Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Murda Blocc’ by A$AP Ferg. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of A$AP Ferg or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
It go boom, bitch
Choppa street sweeper like a broomstick
Trigger Maxo, Waka Flocka
Killed your partner, you ain’t do shit
Run it ‘fore I run out
Sun up ’til the sundown
Run it ‘fore I run out
Run up and gunned down
I’m on murda block from the sun up ’til the sundown (sundown)
Thirty on my Glock, if you run up you get gunned down (gunned down)
Servin’ out my shop, better hurry ‘fore I run out (run out)
Heard you with the opps, catch you with ’em, you get gunned down (ay, ay)
Like, what’s crackin’, bitch?
Tommy, MACs and TECs, Nick Van Exel clips
Droppin’ shit, slide in with the stick like it’s hockey, bitch
Microwave, Orville Redenbacher, popcorn, poppin’ shit (boom, boom)
Jigga, Dame, chopper rock a fella, Houston rock it, bitch
I’m on murda block, with the Forum Park gorillas
We got your homies shot, and you still ain’t try to kill us
Overheard the opps, say they Kream Clique killa
What they talkin’ ’bout? They ain’t kill no Kream Clique nigga
Tote banana clips, catch a monkey slippin’, then we kill him
We lurkin’ on his block while he lurkin’ on my Twitter
Draco baby choppa, pull up to his casa, we can’t find him
Tryna hide, no problem, we ‘gon pop his mama and his papa
Shoot medulla oblongata, hit your noodles, spill your pasta
They don’t really want no problems, ask ’em how we did they partners
Go dig your homeboy up, I bet he can’t say shit
And if you lookin’ for me, I be with them Forum Park Crips (ay, ay)
I’m on murda block from the sun up ’til the sundown (sundown)
Thirty on my Glock, if you run up you get gunned down (gunned down)
Servin’ out my shop, better hurry ‘fore I run out (run out)
Heard you with the opps, catch you with ’em, you get gunned down (ay, ay)
Like, what’s crackin’, bitch?
Tommy, MACs and TECs, Nick Van Exel clips
Droppin’ shit, slide in with the stick like it’s hockey, bitch
Microwave, Orville Redenbacher, popcorn, poppin’ shit
Jigga, Dame, chopper rock a (who, who, who)
Seven AM, I wake up to the green, pick up my phone, hit Maxo Kream
Thirty Crips, pack the heat, sippin’ that Promethazine (woo)
Woof, woof (yeah), woof, woof (woo)
Woof, woof (right), woof, woof (ah, yeah), ay
Leave me alone, busta, don’t get me fucked up
Better leave me alone, brother, ‘fore I get you touched up
We ‘gon hit your auntie, uncle and your cousin mother
It’s the jungle, keep some killers with us like like no other
What’s in the backpack, Max? Hidden that shit
Couple riders with that rat, make ’em backflip
Leave ’em hangin’ off a roof with a bad grip
All my niggas is the truth, got a bad clique
Came from the hungry ham, f*ck them pigs, got us jammed
Our dirty bastard leave ’em ghost like the clan (yeah)
‘Bout thirty ratchets, clear this shit like Pakistan
Kids offer the cheesecake like Making The Band
I’m on murda block from the sun up ’til the sundown (sundown)
Thirty on my Glock, if you run up you get gunned down (gunned down)
Servin’ out my shop, better hurry ‘fore I run out (run out)
Heard you with the opps, catch you with ’em, you get gunned down (ay, ay)
Like, what’s crackin’, bitch?
Tommy, MACs and TECs, Nick Van Exel clips
Droppin’ shit, slide in with the stick like it’s hockey, bitch
Microwave, Orville Redenbacher, popcorn, poppin’ shit
Jigga, Dame, chopper rock a fella, Houston rock it, bitch
It go boom, bitch
Choppa street sweeper like a broomstick
Trigger Maxo, Waka Flocka
Killed your partner, you ain’t do shit
It go boom, bitch (Murda Blocc)
Choppa street sweeper like a broomstick
Trigger Maxo, Waka Flocka (f*ck the opps, ay)
Killed your partner, you ain’t do shit (bussing dirty cops, ay)