[The Game talking]

Is 07 shit

We runnin' through summers

in dual hummers

and tell them my crew coming for war

[Verse 1]

Ay yooooooooooooooo!

I can't let the day go without lettin' the K go

Now watch his face blow, YAYO!

Heard you hidin' in the big apple

Better keep hidin' for them Puerto Ricans kidnap you

9-3 gangsta ties

Haitans down in Miami (zoe gang!)

yeah, them Haitins down in Miami

Fat Joe don't fuck with you, Nas don't like you

So who they gonna blame when the long nose snipe you

Potato on the muzzle, black tape on the grip

We in the A-Team van with black tape on your bitch

She gonna tell us where you at

We gonna twist that dro'

and just wait 'til that rat come out the that hole

No, the streets ain't safe

When we see him we gonna eat that face

Nobody we gonna beat that case

Yeah, it's on again, two shots of patron I'm in

Drive slow and let the motherfuckin' chrome extend

[Chorus: Ini Kamoze (The Game)]

Out in the streets they call it murder (whispering: murder, murder, murder... kill, kill, kill...)

(You can't fuck with the real!)

Out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder... kill, kill, kill...)

(Nigga, don't cross the real!)

They call it murd... They call it murd... They call it murd...

(murder, murder, murder... kill, kill, kill...)

They call it murd...

(You can't fuck with the real!)

They call it murd... They call it murd... They call it murd... They call it murd...

(Nigga, don't cross the real!)

[Verse 2]

What type of bitch niggaz put his hands on kids (Homo!)

Pull up that black van on his (Nope)

We don't do the kid slap, we do the kid snatchin'

Eyewitness news, there's been a kidnappin'

Feed 'em real good, takin' home to play with Harlem

Sit by the phone, just wait it's your daddy callin'

Naah, we don't get down like that

but 50's momma we'll put you in the ground like that

Cuuuurtisss

Tryin' to make peace with Dipset

but you ain't even address the beef with Jin yet

It's on now, better call dr. Ben and Russell

Set up a peace treaty or go get some muscle

Call the lighty brothers, call all your lil' flunkies

Call the snitch hotline and get the G-Unit monkeys

Call the cops, I'm still 100 miles an runnin'

Then call the God and tell him your ass is comin'

[Chorus: Ini Kamoze (The Game)]

Out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder... kill, kill, kill...)

(You can't fuck with the real!)

Out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder... kill, kill, kill...)

(Never cross the real!)

They call it murd... They call it murd... They call it murd...

(murder, murder, murder... kill, kill, kill...)

They call it murd...

(You can't fuck with the real!)

They call it murd... They call it murd... They call it murd... They call it murd...

(Never cross the real!)

[Verse 3]

This ain't "Ether", nah, this ain't "Hit 'em up"

This is a lot of dead bodies, who gonna pick them up

We just shot the corner

Who gonna drive the truck

Fuck the whole G-Unit who lied to Buck

Fuck Spider too, now that's for Big Fase

I know where you countin' your sheeps

I'll have some Crips waitin'

youtube banger, tell me how that clip taste

You kiss Lakisha in that mouth, tell me how my dick taste

I got the crown nigga, it's going down nigga

and Los Angelesss - it's my town nigga!

I got a place where bodies don't get found nigga

Where the dead sleep and ghost don't make a sound nigga

The real 50 Cent, he knew Jimmy Henchmen, the real Jimmy Henchmen

Look at them niggaz flinchin'

We ain't gonna do shit

I'll have your crew sit (?)

So play like them is toy guns and this is just music

[Chorus: Ini Kamoze (The Game)]

Out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder... kill, kill, kill...)

(You can't fuck with the real!)

Out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder... kill, kill, kill...)

(Don't ever cross the real!)

They call it murd... They call it murd... They call it murd...

(murder, murder, murder... kill, kill, kill...)

They call it murd...

(Niggaz can't fuck with the real!)

They call it murd... They call it murd... They call it murd... They call it murd...

(Don't fuck with the real!)

[The Game talking]

It's Blackwall Street nigga!

Is 07, we can't be fuck with

Try and die, motherfuckers

I run the world, it's on!