(Pastor Troy)   ooh, ooh, ooh   yeah, this for da clones in the ATL,   With them fake a** chains,   For all the flexy a** ni**az comin' outta Atlanta,   Verse 1   iiiii'm comin, 2 50 cal's in hand,   long goatee's ni**a da taliban,   i'll murda man, i'm tryin to murk somethin,   this aint no chuck e cheese,   i'm tryin to hurt somethin',   These ni**az claimin G's, claimin' they run the south, please..   How you run this sh** in them butt fu** caprice,   Atleast you outta know bout' my thrown,    the P the T the R the O the Y,   ni**a i'm so fly call me jet,   jump off in the ocean still aint wet,   I flex I mothafu**in ball betta ax em,   catch a ni**a talkin sh**,   motherfu**in blast em,   Murda, M - U - R - D - A,   i'm pumpin gats at whoever in the way,   I got the gunplay, don't think they understand,   don't think they wanna fu** with the Murda Man.   Chorus   I don't think they wanna fu** with the murda man, fu** with the murda man    fu** with the murda man   (well ah haaaa) (x 4)   Verse 2   yaaaaa'll trippin',    not everybody crunk,   yall' ni**az gonna make me pop tha trunk,   cause I remember way back in the day, when the ATL was'nt gettin no play,   then I came out, drop, we ready,   ni**az went to bouncin',   ridin' dem box chevys,   But I guess that was then,    This is now.... when I catch ya a** in the street, the guns plow,   I represent the heart,   I represent the Anger,   I represent the real,   I represent the danger,   I represent the cars,   I represent the dream,   I represent repect,   I'm representin my team,   it's Pistol PT, aka the Murda Man,   Ya pistol's in ya car,   My pistol's in my hand,   and you can ask Jan,    I shot a ni**a ran,    don't think you understand, i'm the fu**in' Murda Man(haaaa)   Chours(x 4)      Verse 3   Stiiiiiill spinnin',   empty my magazine,   I jump off in my limozine, and fleet the scene,   This aint the swat team,   this aint' lil scrappy and them,   I love that hard sh**,   and fu** a platinum,   and lil jon', used to be my homie, used to be my ace,   now I wanna slap tha taste, out yo mouth,   ni**a down south i'm a legend,   when u see me, keep mothafu**in' steppin,   they flexin... so what u got a A(ATL) Hat ni**a?   that don't mean sh**,   to a southside killa,   What's up Shay, what's up toadd,   On that air, shady park,   Murda, M - U - R - D - A,   i'm bustin' shots at whoever in my way,   cockin' my a.k.,   don't think they understand.. But I don't think they wanna fu** with the Murda Man(haaaa)   Chorus(x 4)   (well ah haaaa)