Текст: Clipse. Til the Casket Drops. There Was a Murder.

I wake up, wake up in the morning
'Cause them boys come knocking in the morning
Then I have me girl go flush it in the toilet
Them say did someone get murdered on the corner

Them say did someone see me, seen someone get shot
Them say they saw me there
My *** they won't break me
Man, I'll go crazy before they make me tell

There was a murder by the corner house
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Them boys asking questions now
No, no, no, no, no

Now everybody seen it but don't nobody know
What happened to the boy down the street a week ago
Ain't nobody talking, they keep it on the low
Don't open your mouth when they knocking at your do'

'Cause *** die out here for snitching
They die for snitching, okay
These *** die out here for snitching
They die for snitching, okay

Those who break the code we dig them hole
What's worse than a street *** that sells his soul?
Via the life we chose, we picked our roles
Bad man stands and fall but never fold

Gangster turn informer when the jig's up, your tool mix up, mix up
Babylon boys get bodies left for pick up
Blood puddle, gun muffle, guns couple
Muzzle in mouth, we bring trouble

Soon police come rush, whole family crushed
All because them *** couldn't 'ush
Shot box mouths with no covers
Body 'pon body gets stacked one top the other
Wish them hadn't to suffer

There was a murder by the corner house
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Them boys asking questions now
No, no, no, no, no

Now everybody seen it but don't nobody know
What happened to the boy down the street a week ago
Ain't nobody talking, they keep it on the low
Don't open your mouth when they knocking at your do'

'Cause *** die out here for snitching
They die for snitching, okay
These *** die out here for snitching
They die for snitching, okay

Nobody seen nothing, heard nothing, they ain't said a word
Just chalk and yellow tape with blood 'pon them shirts
Ashes to ashes, his body back to the earth
That casket dropped six feet then throw upon it dirt

Mum's the word, that's hustler's etiquette
Ya rather hang yourself than turn state evidence
Ever since I was young never talk to the folk
Tongue small like a rudder yet steer the 'ole boat

Loose lip the reason that ship no longer float
Telling the Feds everything they wanna know
That fatal blow took his very last breath
The power of the tongue, is life and death, you feel me?

There was a murder by the corner house
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Them boys asking questions now
No, no, no, no, no

Now everybody seen it but don't nobody know
What happened to the boy down the street a week ago
Ain't nobody talking, they keep it on the low
Don't open your mouth when they knocking at your do'

'Cause *** die out here for snitching
They die for snitching, okay
These *** die out here for snitching
They die for snitching, okay