About the song: I Told You Not To Trust These Lyrics is written and sung by NBA YoungBoy. The title of the song is Murder Business.
I Told You Not To Trust These Lyrics
(I got Hitman on the beat, bah, bah)
(Mommy, India Got Them Beats)
bit^h ass ni^^a, don’t talk to the man (Mm, mm, mm-mm)
Fuc^ them, haha, yeah, what?
bit^h ass ni^^a,, say what you doin’ (Mm, mm, mm-mm)
What, you wanna do somethin’?
Tryna to put some shit to bed now (Bed)
Whipped up, hop out with Glocks
And we be aiming at your head, huh (Head now)
bit^h, I wanna do something
Lil Top like to see red, huh
You don’t fuk around with the Don Dada (Bah)
We gon’ red dot ’em, we gon’ bedrock ’em (Yeah, yeah)
I’ma heart stop ’em (Yeah, fah)
With this killin’ shit, I’m the murder doctor
I got one chopper for his nine partners (Huh? Huh?)
When I finish hoes say they heard about me
Ridin’ four deep, ridin’ where they be
In the back seat with a dirty chopper (Skrrt)
Screamin’ “Fu^k the law, we gon’ kill about it”
Fu^k the music, ni^^a,, know we drill about it
I’ll use it, ni^^a,, know this .40 on me
I’m a real Blood, get real to homie
Kill that bit^hand make the critics pay him homage
Make them killers drive when you say, “You want it?”
In his trap spot, we gon’ creep up on him
These hoes somewhere scared now
Tell us ’bout where all that lead found
He was rollin’ right, left him dead, huh
Lil Top, I’m too ahead now
Inside, might scope your headphones
Demon shit, a liter, it’s too dope
That’s not prescribed from all the styrofoams
YoungBoy like to blaze, no hand grenades
We get your head blown (Bro, hold on)
Reaper shit, this Draco on me
bit^h, I’m the coach, just work this trap phone
Back bad, confirm shit (Yeah), I can get his back blown (Yeah, yeah)
.45 (Yeah), this Herm shit (Yeah)
Plus you know my bag strong (Yeah, yeah)
You slime enough to fu^k a ni^^a,
You slime to bring a bag home (bit^h)
I told you not to trust these ni^^a,
bit^h, you know you dead wrong
On that lean, you would think I popped a bean
I don’t turn down (Nah)
Killin’ scene, blood on my soldierees
Somethin’ got burnt down (Nah)
Switched all plans and the Ks turn to machines
I’m like “Who playin now?” I’m flexin’
Lay the whole clan down (Yeah)
“How you want him?” Leave him with his pants down (Yeah)
Murder business, hol’ on, murder business (Murder business)
Chopsticks (Chopsticks), kill a witness (Witness)
Down bit^h (Down bit^h), drive while we spinnin’ (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Let her work the phone, tell ’em, “Meet us wit’ it” (Meet us wit’ it)
Murder business, hol’ on, murder business (Murder business)
Chopsticks (Chopsticks), kill a witness (Kill a witness)
Down bit^h (Down bit^h), drive while we spinnin’ (Drive it)
Let her work the phone, tell ’em, “Meet us wit’ it” (Tell ’em, “Meet us wit’ it”)
Brrt, brrt
(Shawty sayin’ “Call back,” ’cause she found where they stayin’)
We gon’ leave the phones
(Load up, she’ll take us, we be scopin’ out the scene)
Bah, bah, ni^^a, won’t stop cappin’, you know that headshot was me (Headshot was me)
(We’ll fu^kin’ spin again and see who got good aim)
Bro, creep down, sweep up
Show that ass some quick stuff
Pussy bit^h can’t run from us
We gon’ chase you down, we gon’ put you up
YoungBoy, AI, Lil Top, bit^h, I’m a big thug (Big thug)
You in here, then tonight
You just might die if you ain’t here with us (Ain’t here with us)
(You know how we comin’, big shit)
Video
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