เนื้อเพลง Hurt N*ggas - Mobb Deep

[Verse 1: (Prodigy)]

I'll noose ya'll, and push ya'll off the edge
I'm like Ray Benzino 'cause how I hang men
I got a big caliber gun inside of my Timb
so I can explode on any mothaf*cka that grin
trust me, it's not like that, it's not what you thought
you'll be like "P shot me and bounced in the Porsche"
on some real live Mobb sh*t, Columbo, the Cappo
I pop n*ggas, leave the gun right there, I got gloves
stop n*ggas from frontin', leave 'em real f*cked up
I drop n*ggas thats runnin', shoot 'em in they back dun
coward ass n*gga poppin' all that sh*t
and when them things popped out you on some Michael Johnson sh*t
f*ck that, hammer that n*gga to the earth
wanna cross me? you n*ggas gotta pay that toll first
and I got change for all that million dollar sh*t
and these slugs 'll be the only reason n*ggas be hollarin'.

[Chorus (Havoc, P, and Noyd)]

Turn this sh*t up, pump this sh*t up, DJ mothaf*ckas burn this sh*t up,
we Hurt N*ggas
Twirl that sh*t up, burn that sh*t up, don't make me have the Nine spit
up, I gives a fid-uck, I hurt n*ggas

[Verse 2: (Havoc)]

I'm tired of tellin' n*ggas how the f*ck I feel
you know the steel 'll put them n*ggas to sleep like Benedryl
these trash ass rappers and they faggot ass friends
talkin' like the b*tches, walk around like they Men
n*ggas like ya'll don't get no respect
this is Hav', I die once, ya'll n*ggas die a Thousand deaths
cowards, you tryin' too hard to be 'bout it
you know them n*ggas that be fake be the ones to shout it (Holla!)
talkin' this and that, but check
turn around and get robbed in they own projects
might as well be rappin' on stage for them
b*tches be baggin' you, 'cause you the one feminine
the sound of these guns got 'em shook, it's a rap
you could see the yellow stripe runnin' clear down they back
and let a n*gga find out where you live at
and then blow that mothaf*ckin' piece of sh*t off the map.

[Verse 3 (Prodigy)]

Whattup son, dun, surprise n*gga, thats how we pop up on 'em
you off point you die in your sleep, thats the moral
n*gga, you know we get our contraban in
smokin' that dangerous, you know we got bangers
you know I'm dead real, I don't know what you was thinkin'
I'm all over the street, you better stay creepin'
I shoot n*ggas fair ones, I'll box you dun
you'll be six feet in that dirt, I'll stop your run.

[Chorus]