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Roddy Ricch - murda one (feat. Fivio Foreign) [Official Audio]
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Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Roddy Ricch
Roddy Ricch
Chant
Fivio Foreign
Fivio Foreign
Chant
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Kenneth Blume III
Kenneth Blume III
Paroles/Composition
Maxie Ryles
Maxie Ryles
Paroles/Composition
Nils Noehden
Nils Noehden
Paroles/Composition
Rodrick Moore
Rodrick Moore
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Kenny Beats
Kenny Beats
Production
Nils
Nils
Production

Paroles

(Woah, Kenny) Murder one, murder one I think I invented this shit from the hood But they call me phenomenal one, uh I was in Miami, took her out to Tootsie's Put some dick on her tongue Oh, Lord, this 'cause she know that I'm the one, one, one Murder one, murder one So I put a body kit on a Rover, she ain't even gotta ask She wanna shoot the shit like a soldier 'Cause she know I got the cash Brand new designer, gotta pull off the tag Hoppin' out the private, gotta pull off the bag I'm the shit (I'm the shit) huh Live this lifestyle, I get paid to talk my shit This ain't entertainment, nigga, we got the sticks What set is you claim 'cause the opps got hit, huh Dr. Miami, come now, I gotta go get the strap, new tits, huh I spent a quarter mil' last year, rollin' the big dawg appeal, huh And the plug gave me a bad baby, had to play Dr. Phil, huh Rushin' a hundred yards, fuck a quarter back, I gotta get me a mil' And you hate 'cause you knowin' I'm better Water wet, should've wore an umbrella Murder one, murder one I think I invented this shit from the hood But they call me phenomenal one, huh I was in Miami, took her out to Tootsie's Put some dick on her tongue Oh, Lord, this 'cause she know that I'm the one, one, one Murder one, murder one So I put a body kit on a Rover, she ain't even gotta ask She wanna shoot the shit like a soldier (uh) 'Cause she know I got the cash (uh) Brand-new designer, gotta pull off the tag Hoppin' out the private, gotta pull off the bag Murders (murders) I keep a shooter at my service (baow) I don't like beefin' with Gerbers He probably tell, he makin' me nervous (uh) I don't wanna meet in the middle (nah) Huh, let's keep it official (yeah) You tryna get lit off of me Go and mention my name in your song 'Cause you need me to diss you Stop runnin' 'cause I need 'em to hit you Ain't give me nothin' when I needed a nickel You niggas could die for not keepin' it with you If I ain't call you, then I needed the mission (baow) This shit is bussin' (this shit is bussin') This shit a bust down, look (this shit a bust down, look) If he catch a body, then make it home safe And then throw it away, it's a touchdown, uh (baow) Murder one, murder one I think I invented this shit from the hood But they call me phenomenal one, huh I was in Miami, took her out to Tootsie's Put some dick on her tongue Oh, Lord, this 'cause she know that I'm the one, one, one Murder one, murder one So I put a body kit on a Rover, she ain't even gotta ask She wanna shoot the shit like a soldier 'Cause she know I got the cash Brand-new designer, gotta pull off the tag Hoppin' out the private, gotta pull off the bag
Writer(s): Kenneth Charles Iii Blume, Nils Nohden, Maxie Lee Iii Ryles, Rodrick Wayne Jr. Moore Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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