album cover
Murder
3
Hip-Hop/Rap
Murder was released on March 25, 2022 by Formalities as a part of the album Murder - Single
album cover
Release DateMarch 25, 2022
LabelFormalities
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM89

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Formalities
Formalities
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Formalities
Formalities
Songwriter
Jackson Aye
Jackson Aye
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Sedivi
Sedivi
Producer

Lyrics

The point of a murderer
Is that they never heard of ya
Until the burner squeeze
Now your blood is fucking curdling
The hydrogen peroxide
Burning through skin like your baptized
Everybody I know, calls me that guy
Mr. eye, keeping a gaze on everything
They say that they on top of me
I guess they ain't wrong
Because the bottom holds the top
If I'm slacking they fall
The mafia, tried offin ya, keyword tried
Now your searching deeper for a murderer tonight
Revenge is on the mind
Don't tell me I didn't try
To warn ya of the signs, but even then, your all so fucking blind
Everybody looking for an easy way out
But the old time trick, of slitting of wrists quick
Ain't enough, to satisfy, mr big dick
Slick Rick, who got babes on every millimeter of his dick
Needing me to be the one to make his problems all fixed
But the money
The amount, I feel is super funny
He'll pay anything to get this motherfuckers veins runny
So I call up my man Bobby, tell him my client ain't stopping
So pull up the information, what this shit is all about
He tell me, big Ricky, the client, that's super stuffy
Had a run in with a kid who was caught having a quickie with his
Main bitch
Chases him outta sight with 8 clips
But was pissed when he missed
And the kid had escaped it
Only 16, motherfucker with some big dreams
We dig deep
Pulling up the organs squishy lychee
Now I am known as the mayor of mr clean brand bleach
Swiftly, I could wash out a carpet, the Red Sea
Salty, bone like saltine, cracker crispy
Spiting useless rhymes, all the time, so they can tip me
Now, I do not have no morals
But could I tolerate
The constant hate, shoved up in my face
By killing the bigger player, for the little man's plate
Tryna stack up steak, always wanted to play on the first base
Wanted to be the guy that would cut up the turkey
Needs to validate himself
Till it's tearing down his wealth
And it's fucking up his health
And he's no longer himself
Ricky Ricky
I can't seem to deal with you,
ya super fishy
So ima keep it real wit you
Call off the hit, or I'll make a new hit
Like this track that I'm spitting to buy nooses
I'll lose it, if you hire another motherfucker
I'll be a bodyguard for the kid you cocksucker
I'll be the killer that had some brunch with ya mother
Till I mudder, and then leave her in lumber mill cutter
Don't choke, don't stutter
Take coke, keep running
I be hunting for a Hunnid
A day, you fucking stuntin
Showing off your shit you barely got
You nearly got shot
Payed off all the cops
To keep yourself from getting, knocked knocked
It's like tick tock, I can hear the grandfather clock
Slowing to a stop
Heartbeat is getting rocked
Noah ark, you full of filth
Comically, get flipped
Like a paper or a page
Weighting nothing, fly away
Where's you heft, fucking haste
Cause you say you leave em waste
Ed
But I don't think you've faced
It
If you wanna be a big boy, then here, take this
Take that
Take a bullet from a gat
Paint a picture with the splat
And maybe then I'll pay you back
I'm not Jack the Ripper
Call me Mr.pollock
I be piling all it
Blood becomes the paint
The brush I levitate
Above your face
The canvas for the splattering
Another slasher film, I will direct
Am I correct to say you've been taking viagra, your less erect
Your not as stimulating, now she's looks for some activating
Exhilarating
Every ing to describe
The shit you can't provide
So when I pull up in the night
And you screaming this ain't right
Lemme tell ya how whole thing started
That night
That night
That night
Lemme tell you how this whole thing started
That night
Written by: Formalities, Jackson Aye
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