[Intro: Jay-Z]
N***as is dead! Dead, I tell you!
Can't be serious
What you think's gon' happen with three of the illest n***as together in street music, and so forth, on one track, huh?
Can't be serious
It's Murda, n***a
Huh? It's Murda!

[Verse 1: Jay-Z & Ja Rule]
Motherfuckers wanna kill me, but don't got the heart
To look me in the eyes with the nine and spark
'Cause whether you're for or against this
When I spit with murderous intentions, everybody goes, everybody knows
The weapons I possess? They not for show
And you put dresses on your weapons when you walk out the door
See, once I flash, motherfuckers better do the one-shot dash or be one shot ass
J to the A-Y to the—
Drive by to your hood, screaming "bye-bye" to you
Why would you fuck with me knowing I put you—
Six feet deep and them n***as could die with you?
Cock the hot pistol, then pop the hot pistol
And I promise you only one thing: I will not miss you
Jay-Hova, know the God that served ya
'Cause dead or alive, when I arrive, it's Murda! (Yo)

[Verse 2: Ja Rule & DMX]
Shit, I hope y'all n***as know to lay low now
'Cause thou shall perish if you don't bow down
'Cause I hit 'em on sight; it's dark—dim the lights
You shot twice, God bless, to this, the night
That a lot of n***as fear the coming of their life
And you dead right, be in hell looking for ice
Fucking with Ja, y'all bitch n***as talking shit
All on my dick, y'all broke n***as making me rich
You gon' blaze me 'cause you high ripped off the Henny rock
Flow semi-hot—handling me, you're not
Check my forte—not even on a bad day you beat this
Rather beat your dick or your bitch
My flow be the sick shit, gravely ill, n***as dying
'Cause they know I spit like iron
Nothing but sparks flying, leaving holes in mics
Hell and night, go together like heaven and light
N***as ain't seeing my plight, it's aiiight
I let the world know I shine like ice
I bet it all I can throw a hard four in the dice
'Cause I'm a gambling man
You should gamble with a gat in your hand
Spin in barrel and put it to your head
'Cause we don't dance no more; all's we do is cock and spit
Dedicated to giving y'all nothing but thug shit
Think we playing? You'll undoubtedly fall further
Fucking with I-N-C, it's Murda! (Ugh, ugh)
[Verse 3: DMX]
I'm a cruddy n***a, going up raw-dog in dirty bitches
And if I get burned, I'm giving that shit to thirty bitches
You say you know a n***a like me—guess again, papi
I might smile up in your face, but I ain't your friend, papi
Jump out the fifteen hundred, like, "Run it!"
N***as don't want it—get it, done it, when I'm blunted
However it went down, I made it happen, I made it scrappin'
I made it fussing, busting, I made it capping
And letting off wasn't nothing new to a n***a
Something to do to a n***a, 'cause you's a fool, n***a
I know your type—you hype, all up off that fake shit
You can't understand why a man would have to take shit
Or steal shit, but this is that real shit, n***as kill shit, peel shit
I hit you in your head—you won't feel shit!
RRRR! Let the dogs loose on a n***as ass
Find out if the n***as faster than the trigger blast
A fucking snake in the truest form
Knowing damn well that what I do is wrong, but still, I do it strong
N***as is making movies, so I gots to stop production
I need a block to function, and maybe I'll stop destructing
The blocks is not for fronting, so let me get that, shorty
'Cause you don't need that shorty—you don't know what to do with that shorty
You might as well hit this forty before you hit the floor
Another 24—what you want? Money? More?
Them n***as get it raw, with no condom
You find him saying he sorry for what he said before I blind him
Get the flame out the four-fifth, and there ain't gonna be no more, Riff
Dog you on the floor stiff, could have made it to the door if
Bullets traveled a lot slower, and you ran a lot faster
But they don't, and you can't, so don't think about after
'Cause tomorrow ain't coming, so stop running, 'cause you gon' die like a sucker
Murda, motherfucker!
[Outro: DMX]
Uh! Where my motherfucking dogs at
Ugh, ugh
My n***a, Jigga; my dog, Ja
Irv Gotti, Ruff Ryders
Def Jam, where my dogs at?
Ty Fyffe, ugh, where my dogs at?
Hold me down, baby, hold me down, baby
Hold me down, baby
Boomer! One love, n***a
RRRR!
Murda, motherfucker!
It's real!