Альбом Brotha Lynch Hung

[Нет текста]

Yeah, I'm in the dark on these niggas...
Okay

[Verse 1]
Maybe they don't know I'ma, O.E
You just a king cobra straight
No via satellite, it'd take more than a car battery to juice me
Killa appetite, never catch me actin' right
Smoke a two hundred sack a night, like an AK when I shoot these
Please believe I pack it right, produce rapid stripes(?)
They call me Randy Johnson, hundred and twenty miles an hour
...(?)
Nigga you must be off that powder, I'm Spiderman
Give me a blunt, pen, pad, and an hour, I'll make it shower
My taliban, Siccmade Muzicc we keep it heated like Nascar (guess what)
Plain and simple patna, fill up the clip and then blast ours
Ain't no rippin shit, it's all S-I-double C, you trouble me
I'm loco in the cabesa and I'm siccer than the rest-a
I'll blow your chest up, he need an ambulance
Two minutes left, he don't have a chance, not even half a chance
Leave him with feces all in his pants when we pick him up
I rip 'em up right out the dump truck 'cause I'm

[Chorus]
Spiderman, Spiderman, try'na see how much you know you can
He sports the tec's, any size
SongtexteYou playin' him close he might blow your mind
He's deep in the cut, heat all around
Tryin' to find him he's no where to be found
Okay, here comes the Spiderman
(Here comes the Spiderman...)

[Verse 2]
I'm like (?) snipers, I ain't try'na brag, but here
You need these numbers to this place that be makin' body bags
I'm the kamikaze magnum while I'm draggin' um
To the spot, gotta get the ...(?)
Like roast beef, nigga I ain't supposed to beef
But I love meat and I got Sacramento enemies, So I love heat
Got a sack of indo green leaves and I'm 'bout to twist it
So move with me nigga, quick shit patna, you 'bout to miss it
Now I don't smoke with them busted browns(?), I clutch the pounds
And if you fuck wid it I rub ya down
With seventeen rounds, crack the everclear now
Forever real now, spittin' at the whole crowd verbs and nouns
And no felonies so I pack somethin' heavy
I took the Chevy to the levy, two hundred and fifty pounds of red meat 'n feddy
You got it twisted up like crazy Eddie ...(?)
From two hundred and yards away I make ya head bleed steadily

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Bet I could teach ya how to dissect your stomach muscles 'n eat 'em
These days that ain't shit, cut 'em and bleed 'em
I seen worse shit, fuck em and feed em bloody spaghetti
That Siccmade shit, cuddy get ready, bloody your Chevy interior quick
Muddy your driveway, that's what I say
Fuck it, you 'bout to die today
Got a chopper in the hideaway, don't make me use it
Off a half pipe(?) with the Ol' 8 English, don't make me lose it
I'm cry baby locc, that's it
I'm from the block where you learn at sixteen
to load glocks, pack clips and smoke pot
Slumpin' Tupac, 'Me Against The World' cuz it juice me
I got episodes and episodes like Ricky and Lucy
Drama shit, dead momma shit, don't give a fuck shit
Rough shit, shut you up in the back of the truck shit
Them gangsta bitches love this, they jack off to it
I'm Spiderman, bitch ass nigga I thought you knew this

[Chorus x2]

(feat. Cos, Yukmouth)

[Yukmouth]
Yuk that project nigga, I was forced to hustle
I was forced to tussle drugs slangin' that born to bubble
Nigga back and forth to court in trouble
Cuffed by the task force in trouble
I won a Porsche from the juggle
Pocket full of stones like Barney Rubble cursed by the devil
Birds on the level of a kingpin smirk on the bezel
I hit the hood inside my Esco-lade, make the ghetto say
Yuk so ghetto wid his ghetto ways
My ghetto pays, three and four bricks a day
Pop Cris and play, the hardest representin' the Bay
I fuck free puffin' trees inside me luxury way
Y'all ain't tellin' me shit I'm tryna fuck celebrity chicks
Yo rockin' a throwback seventy six, I got grand from eighty seven
Ya bitch nigga always said I'd be rich
The fans hit dead at the strip
I still get executive chips
Distribution deal executive shit
Yuk and Lynch what's better than this
Let the veterans spit
Infra red in the clip deaden ya lip
Ya bitch rappers better step shit up
Call me Texas Yuk, fuck a van I rock the Lexus truck
SongtexteWit the Smoke-A-Lot logo gear
Get ya coastal on a promo
Yuk out of this world like Hans Solo
Rap-A-Lot mafioso cop birds from Acopolco
Real talk to mock vocals
Fuck the cops and po-pos, headlocks and choke holds
They put me in again I pop the four-fours drop them homos
And learn that the glock is no joke
And learn that the Blocc is no joke
Slang rocks and snort coke, we cook kis like gumbo drops
We chop O-Z's to jumbo rocks, pay off Colombo cops
Beef with me the funk won't stop
The gun expert let the tech burst the Spit Network

[Hook]
It's the Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on
The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on
The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on
The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on
The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on
The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on
The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network

[Brotha Lynch]
Homie the human gas nozzle, twenty four gallons a shell on you
Then I bail on you, somethin' smell on you you tell homie
I'm sicker than malt liquor wid the gin mix wid a fifth of brandy
And I'm hard like Chinese trigonometry you niggas can't understand me
When I, go to plan C and shift gears like a five point O
Dick click, I'ma let one go, everybody get on the floor
I got that petrol my momma ain't around and I can't let go
And I'm bound to run up in a high speed butt naked and let the techs go
Bound to give my 'ut two children and hit the nitro
Catch me on a summer night, bleedin' ya sector
Eat 'em up like Hannible Lector leave blood on the walls
meat in my jaws, heat in my claws bleed her on the walls
beat up your dog with ease
Teflons and I'm so tired of bein' stepped on
And when I'm done with you niggas you'll be so tired of bein' crept on
In blue with my nigga, Yukmouth he in all red
I'll leave 'em all dead call me the hog head spit raw lead

[Hook]

[Cos]
You see I hops outta somethin' bout as old as me
And then I drops off somethin' or I pops off somethin'
While these hot dogs stuntin' I'm just playin' my part
Back streets fuck the frontin' I like to stay in the dark
I pack heat that crack bubbles so just let the games start
Gimme a corner I got hustle I'll be ballin' by dark
So fuck the feds and the NARCs they just slowin' me down
Cause I be paranoid now when I be rollin' around
But I'm shark off the water call me deep sea rider
Hop out the lark wid four five and then I sneak three by ya
Before ya realise you been hit my nigga Lynch beside ya
With the nozzle of his grill stuffed an inch inside ya
Flood ya nostrils wid ya head we make ya bleed like hoes
When we plug you up what follows make you freeze like poles
It ain't nothin' 'til ya partner's got the greasy nose
Holdin' his tummy for weeks at a time livin' like old dudes
Ya see down in the alley sippin' on old brew
It's the East levy in alligator and old school
Nikes lock the cops escape paper like it was owed to me
You bitches hoes to me, you'll give the O's to me
These streets are cold to me, it's gettin' old to me
Now I drink straight out the bottle just like it's sold to me
Now I don't believe in tomorrow until it's shown to me
I put ya name on my hollows spit at ya home homie

[Hook]

[Brotha Lynch]
I'm bout to set it off like deaf Gebby gebby
Shoot out ya little house on the prarie
Eat out ya raw insides if ya dare me
Open up ya heart like a Christian be aware of me
Fixin' niggas like a hysterectomy, you won't get respect from me
Right up in ya chest wid these, heat up ya whole set wid these
T-O-E's cause I be offa these O-E's
Handin' out these notes please like food stamps
I'm givin' niggas stomach cramps
You hear me and Yuk and C-O you start to panic
I'm a, manic depressive givin' motherfuckers chest lifts
Chuck niggas we the siccmade nemesis
Better respect this before I
Hit ya to fuck up wid that wet shit and
dope get ya neck flipped wrecked
To the ninety six you fall
Drippin' blood off my hand G that's death
Without poverty jam straps in ya rib trust me
Better act right fuck a jack knife that night
Bullets'll hit ya crib shootin' through cushions in ya livin' room
You won't be livin' soon, it's goin' in 'em soon
Do the asshole to ya womb nigga
Ya like that don't ya?, good, I'm right back dumpin
At that ass and I'm fast to flash
Cut you up like Grandmaster Flash
And I pass the ass, dumpin' lead toes action pad
And I bag the cash, you sit and wait for the Glad bags
and the aftermath, coroners come grab the bags and pack the truck
While I stack the bucks put you in the back of the truck nigga
That's what's up nigga

[Hook]

Been a hard road
Still walking this walk you know
From over there to over here (still smokin')
And its nuthin'..

[Verse 1]
I went from selling dope to selling weed and CD's
And doing little dirt for my BG's for green leaves
I went from knee-deep, from stateline to stateline
I had to make mine so I wouldn't have to take mine
I went from playtime to robbin in the nighttime
I went from daytime to mobbin on the bayline
to Alcatraz it was taking chunks outta my ass still I
I went from empty to a full tank of gass
I went from filty to clean when my momma passed
I changed and went from doing good things to drama fast it's strange
I went from pain to gain I went from game to game
I went from grain to grain, and went from the past
to the present I went from artist to the president
CEO Siccmade musicc is my residence
I went from broke to fiendin' for dead presidents
I went from no hope to king its all evident

So everybody rise with me
Realise with me
You don't know whats on my mind
SongtexteShots out to Sicx when I spit this rhyme
Sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

[Verse 2]
I went from hospitals to funerals to graveyards
From Hell's Kitchen like Mel Gibson in Braveheart
I went from they yard to my yard
I went from having light scars to bulletwounds tight cars and silverspoons
I went from the southside to the north to the eastside
I let the meat fry, stress from eating pork
I went from me ride to I ride
I went from livin it up to writing notes that talk suicide do or die
It's been a hard road I went from slamming cardoors to 6-4's to 2004's
I went from blued out in clothes to never booed out at shows
Who doubt the foe led toast
I went from homies to enemies I went from gold weed to indonese
I couldn't stop needing
I went through every season I went through to every reason for nothing
Plenty reasons to be touching the remedies

So everybody rise with me
Realise with me
You don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to Q-ball when I spit this rhyme
Sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

I went from next to nothing to pressing button and black keys
from 15 to 23 walking the streets
from OE to no weed I'm paranoid
They all tell me they love me, it's all null and void
I play with toys, you know, shots to big Zo
I went from 40 to 0 just to get hydro
I went from him to him thats how the story goes
Tearing from limb to limb touching the 44's
I went from Sac to Chicago just to promote
200 dollars in my pocket looking hella broke
Did the show and made 15 g's
and don't you know I smoked 15 bleezies
I went from I don't got enough its nuthin
I went to damn I got it rough, where's the luck at?
I went from hell and back I went from ballin in black to smelling up the
back alleys with Maui Wowee, I been telling you that

Everybody rise with me
And realise with me
That you don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to Big Dan when I spit this rhyme
Sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time (you know it)
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

So everybody rise with me
And realise with me
You don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to E-Mill when I spit this rhyme
Sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

So everybody rise with me
And realise with me
That you don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to X-Raided when I spit this rhyme
I'm sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

So everybody rise with me
And realise with me
That you don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to Jam Master Jay when I spit this rhyme
I'm sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all upon the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

So everybody rise with me
Realise with me
That you don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to Royal D when I spit this rhyme
and I'm sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
All up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

One mo' time everybody

Rise with me
Realise with me
You don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to No Love when I spit this rhyme
I'm sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all upon the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

Watch out
(Hey you got the cigarette? - Thanks homie)
(Shots out to the homie A-Jay who's been down the whole album)
(Hey lets continue this shit -- into the next ??)

Been a hard road
Still walking this walk you know
From over there to over here (still smokin')
And its nuthin'..

[Verse 1]
I went from selling dope to selling weed and CD's
And doing little dirt for my BG's for green leaves
I went from knee-deep, from stateline to stateline
I had to make mine so I wouldn't have to take mine
I went from playtime to robbin in the nighttime
I went from daytime to mobbin on the bayline
to Alcatraz it was taking chunks outta my ass still I
I went from empty to a full tank of gass
I went from filty to clean when my momma passed
I changed and went from doing good things to drama fast it's strange
I went from pain to gain I went from game to game
I went from grain to grain, and went from the past
to the present I went from artist to the president
CEO Siccmade musicc is my residence
I went from broke to fiendin' for dead presidents
I went from no hope to king its all evident

So everybody rise with me
Realise with me
You don't know whats on my mind
SongtexteShots out to Sicx when I spit this rhyme
Sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

[Verse 2]
I went from hospitals to funerals to graveyards
From Hell's Kitchen like Mel Gibson in Braveheart
I went from they yard to my yard
I went from having light scars to bulletwounds tight cars and silverspoons
I went from the southside to the north to the eastside
I let the meat fry, stress from eating pork
I went from me ride to I ride
I went from livin it up to writing notes that talk suicide do or die
It's been a hard road I went from slamming cardoors to 6-4's to 2004's
I went from blued out in clothes to never booed out at shows
Who doubt the foe led toast
I went from homies to enemies I went from gold weed to indonese
I couldn't stop needing
I went through every season I went through to every reason for nothing
Plenty reasons to be touching the remedies

So everybody rise with me
Realise with me
You don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to Q-ball when I spit this rhyme
Sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

I went from next to nothing to pressing button and black keys
from 15 to 23 walking the streets
from OE to no weed I'm paranoid
They all tell me they love me, it's all null and void
I play with toys, you know, shots to big Zo
I went from 40 to 0 just to get hydro
I went from him to him thats how the story goes
Tearing from limb to limb touching the 44's
I went from Sac to Chicago just to promote
200 dollars in my pocket looking hella broke
Did the show and made 15 g's
and don't you know I smoked 15 bleezies
I went from I don't got enough its nuthin
I went to damn I got it rough, where's the luck at?
I went from hell and back I went from ballin in black to smelling up the
back alleys with Maui Wowee, I been telling you that

Everybody rise with me
And realise with me
That you don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to Big Dan when I spit this rhyme
Sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time (you know it)
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

So everybody rise with me
And realise with me
You don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to E-Mill when I spit this rhyme
Sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

So everybody rise with me
And realise with me
That you don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to X-Raided when I spit this rhyme
I'm sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

So everybody rise with me
And realise with me
That you don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to Jam Master Jay when I spit this rhyme
I'm sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all upon the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

So everybody rise with me
Realise with me
That you don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to Royal D when I spit this rhyme
and I'm sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
All up in the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

One mo' time everybody

Rise with me
Realise with me
You don't know whats on my mind
Shots out to No Love when I spit this rhyme
I'm sloppy off the X when I writ this rhyme
and I'm all upon the cut when I hit this dime
Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time
(Tomorrow's gonna be different I swear this time)

Watch out
(Hey you got the cigarette? - Thanks homie)
(Shots out to the homie A-Jay who's been down the whole album)
(Hey lets continue this shit -- into the next ??)

(feat. Luni Coleone)

[Brotha Lynch]
I'm the hardest nigga you never heard of
And I'm a pro when it comes to these tools a four four
when it comes to these raw venemous spit send him his dick
In a wool shoe package, peel back his cap wid this automatic
Cold hefty and black shit I make a rapper disappear like magic
It's Siccmade, all the way to the motherfuckin' casket
And six feet deeper, get these heaters right off the lips
I stack chips and I, sip these litres on the hips
It's some shit that'll split ya wig
You can't spit enough shit, that'll get ya big
Get the gig, you pay him first then I'll lay him next
Niggaz be weak just like latex, cheap as Tampax
I walk through the room wid a handful of anthrax
Shakin' niggaz hands, makin' niggaz dance like
Paula Abdul when I pull out the tool
Ya kids get napped when I run out the school
Ya nig did that, it's the motherfuckin' Lynch
Take a long barrel four four and run up in ya bitch
Real shit, cause it turns me on and
What kind of shit do these nerds be on and
What kinda clips should I put in this chrome four
What kind loopty-loop ya on
Pass me the Newport and let's get it on like Marvin
SongtexteI've been starvin' creep through the trees like Tarzan
Ya meat we carvin'

[Hook]
It's watta, watta, and ya know I'm thirsty
And even though it hurts me
I stay blood thirsty for watta, watta
Take it how you want nigga
So make it how you want nigga
[x2]

[Luni Coleone]
You punk niggaz want war we make shit happen
When it comes to the money drugs scrappin' and cappin'
I'm a veteran and I bet when I pull my thang
You hoe niggaz run faster than cut out segas
We some spiritual lyrical individuals nigga
I ain't fearin' no negro we leavin' bullet holes nigga
When a soldier bow down we leave him alone
Tape his tail to his ass cheek and send him on home
I'm a motherfucka nigga ain't you heard of Co-le
My music it use niggaz like a guard against Kobe
Hittin' hard like Shinobi, you niggaz don't know me
I throw 'em harder than Drew breathes
And shake 'em like police
I mean who tryna take it there let me know
We leave him cryin' like when a kid get a Nintendo
Coleone, I'm known to stay high as a kite
And shoot notes to X-Loc keep my cuz alright

[Hook]

[Brotha Lynch Hung]
While you be internet thuggin' I'll be in ya set muggin
You be in the bathroom tuggin' cause you can't get lovin'
I'll be in the last room pluggin' while you in the front room drippin'
I bust nuts on ya livin' you come in the back room kissing
So don't trip cause I'm harder than you
Just like every motherfucker that's a part of my crew
Gimme a carton full of Newports and a metal junt from the Midwest
And I'ma disappear and come back the sickest nigga you ever met
What happens next nigga, whatever happens
We pull techs nigga, whatevers crackin'
We pitbulls in a backyard full of poodles
And I'm foamin' at the mouth like Kuja
Put blood and guts in yo spaghetti noodles
I got problems in the head
Got ya lookin' for slugs, well it's probably in the bed
Got me lookin' for love all in the wrong places
I'm tasteless and I chew to the bone homie
Now, look at ya faces it's watt

(feat. Cos)

[Lynch Talking]
Art of War nigga, (nigga get in)
The art of war, (I know where he at)
Dedicated to the niggaz
that feel they need to make a living off niggaz
You know, check it out

[Brotha Lynch Hung]
I smell pussy push me, I got a hard dick for killin'
Go head and start shit wid the villain
and get your heart split in a million pieces
You need Jesus I can tell by your releases please
He suck nuts for cheese somebody grease his knees
If you suck nuts for a livin' trust me at least it's these
Lynch haul all up in ya mouth tryna release the steam
And you can rub it on like Visine
And you can dub it all in high speed and watch that bitch nigga scream
And it's nothin' it's no thing I hit the corner
You was lucky and nosy nervous at the corner
I woulda grabbed the body stabbed the body
Then cut the body up like meat and eat 'em ganja leaves
Grab the shotty and get away got away scott clean
So you grab the body I'm in the Mozarotti
Smashin' down I street, all the way from the jail house
SongtexteGave it a chance and then I had to bail the hell out
Tight shit but I don't wanna go through that
Sittin' wid my celly like, how did I do that?
See I had to leave 'em blue black, the fool's back
Wid spits like jackler when ya runnin' wid two gats

[Hook: scratching of these lines]
"There's a war going on outside"
"The way of life is the way of death"
"Coming from the thirty six chambers"
[x2]

[Cos]
Seems like I can't mash these days
Cause everybody wanna try to blast C way
Like everybody wanna pass these days
But talk shit about my click we gon' blast these K's
These niggaz gay cats jay cats walkin' cross the street
When we see 'em I'm mashin' like we on a race track
These niggaz way wack, they knew that since way back
That's why when you gave me your shit it got no playback
You niggaz play rap, we be on that real tip
We in the Source mag, we gain the ill tip
And if y'all don't feel this, y'all must not feel shit
Don't buy that nigga album man he a real bitch
This nigga tryna make a dollar off my nig's shit
Don't talk shit to gain fame that's some ill shit
Come wid some real shit, and stop lyin'
Cause you ain't never shot nobody and copped a diamond nigga

[Hook]

[Brotha Lynch]
Slim love you well slim joke, you been broke
Soon as these Blocc niggaz find out ya M-O that's all she wrote
Cause Blocc niggaz don't fuck wid nut riders we rough riders
Glock 'til they call me the truck driver
I drive bodies down I-5 a, insane you's a damn shame
You don't sell a damn thang to hoes, here's ya damn fame nigga
See you's the same niiga that used to lick on the balls
And hum when I had 'em in ya jaws ask D-E
I wrap CD cases and put 'em on the shelf
I told you motherfuckas I'll gi' you a lil' help
Cause if I really had funk wid you, I wouldn't say shit
Just spray shit, come get you, ya done dizzle
All I gotta do is whistle and here comes the troops
Siccmade niggaz stompin' in steel toe boots
We get paid quicker I know it hurts but it's the truth
Pretty motherfucka I take out ya tooth
Either that or watch the Uzi shake out the roof
How you want it?, like Burger King I'm murderin' and his woman
Trust me, it get tough out here
Motherfuckers could end up in a trunk out here
Can you feel it?

[Hook]

(feat. D-Dubb)

[Brotha Lynch Hung talking]
Yeah, you got a 'port?
(Yeah nigga)
You got a light?

[Verse 1]
Now I started smokin' Newports, ain't that a bitch
I got so stressed out, I think I'm 'bout to dig a ditch for me
old school homies, be actin' like a grinch towards me
reach out to the family but they ain't got nothin' for me
I knew it would come, the day all hell would break loose
feel like I'm in the movie, 2PAC when he was in "Juice"
I'm a outcast, straight outblast, cover the body fast and smash
Type of nigga totin' them triggas because I have to
On my mama this is Siccmade for Life, and in the future made sicc
I'm in the Hafway House off the peel gettin' lit
Thinkin' fuck my bitch, she thinkin' fuck me too
We been together so long, I don't know what to do
But get drunk everyday talkin' 'bout fuck it
I did all I can but I guess that wasn't the plan, you can have the bucket
I'ma take the 6-4, and if you really wanna know, Lose 1, gain 1
It's the same story everywhere I go

[Chorus x2: D-Dubb]
SongtexteEverywhere I go, I see so much hypocrisy
It makes me be who I am
And it's clear nobody understands my mind and why I say things that I do
And they don't know all the things that I been through

[Verse 2]
See, I got empty OE bottles all over the place
So many rappers at the spot can't find no A-Dat space
And so many, snakes in my life I can't never be hungry
Snake meat till I die, you know we ain't real homies
It feels good to help niggaz come up, I don't need nothin' back
You do your thang, I'ma do my thang, I'ma remain in the cracks
and crevasses tryin', to get my fetti shit
higher than mountains, I stay lifted like Chevy lifts
And I been tryin' for years to build a family full of ridas
Dammit I'm tryin', niggaz take it for granted, they lyin'
If they say they don't take it for granted
Take they lil' fame and vanish, get they lil' name and manage
To make a few chips, homies in business is all useless
Take advantage, I'll leave ya toothless, the truth is
I'm not that good of a judge
I been turned on by the thug life and happened to plug, ya know
It's like

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3: D-Dubb]
To see first in two faces, seem to be all around me
Your own actions make me doubt you, cuz they tellin' me all about you
I can hear in what you say, don't go with your way
So I guess I'll stay away from the same ol' same
Stay focused and doin' my thang
My rillas, we stay rollin', reactin' on game that we knowin'
Ain't never no cars to be showin'
And my only problem is that I keep forgettin', we don't love anymore
While we always ignore, so it's like I said once before

[Chorus x2]

[Phone skit after end of song]
Ay what's up Lynch, this V
Get at ya boy mayne, you know I'm sayin' I need to use that camera mayne
So we can shoot that shit, holla at me when you get this message, aight
Peace, One Love and most definitely takin' over, SICCMADE

Til we run out the school, the school of hard knocks
That's real
Bout to show you somethin' new, don't worry about it
Uh-huh, yeah

[Verse 1]
Never had a life, never had a wife
I'd rather have a jack knife and creep through the night
See my mind ain't right, just ran out of my Prozac (damn)
This grind ain't right, I'm supposed to have fat stacks
Certain people in my life, they didn't have my back
It's hurtin' deep and I'm still fightin' to make a come up, you know what
So I put the gun up, and I picked up the mic
Then it all came out, it was a very bloody sight
It was a very dark night, (pull out the tool)
Do the death dance, I don't wanna see your hands
'til we (run out the school), school of hard knocks
We tote glocks and punch holes in 'em like polka dots, scopin' plots
It's nothin', I handle raps like I handle lacs
Plus I, I handle this like I handle that
I got skills in this battle rap, matter fact
You could meet me in the back, and we could spit shit like mini macs
How many times must I have to spit, patna?
And how many nines must I have to grip?
Cuz I rip shit like a ice pick and I hit up your block quick
And if you can't see it you must got glock-coma
SongtexteI'm sicc in the head and I'm not sober

[Chorus x2]
Do the death dance, (C'mon)
Do the death dance, C'mon
I don't wanna see your hands
Do the death dance

[Verse 2]
See, I'm try'na do damage to your soil
Half you niggas can get your brains wrapped up, in some aluminum foil
I'm hard-boiled like John Woo, smoke bomb too
You must be off that dope and dog food, I can make it all cool
I've been stressed out, lookin' for the best route
Sendin' out death certificates, what's this all about?
I'ma be the next man to admit this, touch me if you wanna
I had a close relationship with straight gin and Mary J-uana
Crooked like every daytona, get that
Smash out out in a glass house, first one in, last one out
Put one in, take one out
I make you take a bath in cold water with heavy shoes (ooh)
I'm that fool that rips it up, them other fools bad news
It's cold blue and I can make your body cold too
He ain't the only one, we got heavy right out the Chevy
And it's a cold, cold medley, them other thangs is petty
Aight, everybody get ready

[Chorus x2]

(feat. Suspicion)

[Lynch Talking]
About to leave the studio it's 9-11, 2002
Up in here wid my nigga C-O once again
Ya know what I'm sayin?
And the motherfuckin' bad news is
What? Suspicion is back
Ya know, here we go

[Brotha Lynch Hung]
I got that spit venom shit that'll wrinkle up ya denim shit
Fuck them niggaz they all hoes I run up in them quick
Turn 'em into statues, lead tattoos I stay
Twenty four deep and bring niggaz the bad news like
The Metro Section I spit petrol like gas nozzles
Bang wid my thangs nigga, you the last models
From the Garden to the creep module
I'm off the bottle makin' money like I won the lotto
You wanna follow wid ya tongue stickin' out ready to lick these nuts
Had a dream watchin' me get out the four door to get these guts
I spit flames, beat niggaz like Rick James get aim
Cause like Pac's attraction I grip thangs
And it's hard and cold it'll make ya heart a cold
I sweat so much I'm so hot, I'm hard to hold
And I'll tell you somethin' else fool Suspicion for life
SongtexteHave you comin' home from work late, missin' ya wife
And ya kids and ya cribs tore up, I leave ya ribs tore up
Nuttin' else better I do, than cut up cold cuts
I'm a meat eatin', skin collector been connected
Wid some niggaz that'll cut you in the neck and leave you butt naked
Layin' dead in ya Lexus, what you doing?
Fryin' niggaz like they do out in Texas, Why?
Lyin' to niggaz cause they fakin' the love
You be the one takin' the slug
And you show me that you ain't got no love for me I'm done cuz

[Hook]
Niggaz that say they real fake as fuck
Have you left set up dead in a vacant lot
No matter what they can talk all that gangsta shit
If ya gangsta walk still ain't shit
I break ya loccs and run up in yO shit
[x2]

[Suspicion]
Look we roll shit blow shit, I been blue shit
Old shit new shit, keep it true shit
Always in a blue fit, and old school kicks
Posted where they move bricks if it was me quick
I sold shit stole shit, I had to move shit
Old shit new shit, to keep a few chips
Man my life wasn't nothin' sweet
At fifteen years old was livin' out on the street
With rocks between my teeth like where the fuck I'm gon' sleep
Grandmomma don't want me and I ain't seen dad for weeks
And momma ain't never been there for me
It's like she probably never cared to shed a tear for me
So now the whole world's like a glare to me
Through all these hard times can barely see prepared to leave
But I dare one of these cats wid no haps for they fame
This rap's for the tracks yeh they wack but they flames
Tryna dirty up my name, I leave 'em stained
Gunshots to middle of they brain, I leave 'em drained
Duck cops from here to the gate, I leave 'em dazed
Bust shots at all of them cops this shit be crazed
Cause fuck goin' back to that place I take the grave
Whether you see me go out ridin' or as a slave
Just look at how they got us, dealin' wid drama
Fuck it pour another shot of that Vodka load up the chopper

[Hook x2]

[Brotha Lynch Hung]
I'm young black shit wid mack shit
In the back shit make 'em do back flips
You must be off that crack shit
Fuckin' wid the tactics got spitz like a gat spit
And I'm gonna rip a nigga to bits for instance
I burn incense and think about shit
I don't need your ten cents juts break 'em right quick (then what?)
Shake 'em right quick (then what?), make 'em bite dick
You suck lug nuts ya love nuts I plug stuff, cut guts up
Ya tough luck punk, fuckin' wid flames around gas
Heat, enough heat to cook ya turkey fried deep like
Louisiana blow sacks like Santana might
Run up in ya spot with the dark blue bandana right
Wid banana clips takin' you out, run in ya house
Let the nine milli cum in ya mouth
Runnin' the South like Cash Money
I bang niggaz in the head you a crash dummy
I mash niggaz

[Hook x2]

(feat. CO, Tall Cann)

[Lynch Talking]
Yeh, yeh..
Back at that ass once again
Had to do it, bitch niggaz in the town
Ya know what I'm sayin'
I'ma tell 'em what I know
Know what I know

[Brotha Lynch Hung]
Word on the streets is don't quit ya day job
I own spots while you won't even get to own a spot
I'm unconcious sippin' on that sugary Saint I-des
Your raps need that Midas touch while mines rhymes
It's suicide fuckin' wit me, believe it
I'll tuck the fifty cal now cause some niggaz tried to get me
Split me in half like a joint bitch, I had it crackin'
Slugs went flyin' through ya window, nigga I'm the captain
You just rappin' to get by, might have to get to wrapped in a 6-5
Might have to get that truckin' and get locked
Nigga you taste good like sour cream and chives over potatoes
I'm a tornado, you just a puddle
A poodle talkin' shit 'bout to get one put in ya noodle
Biotch ya got the nuts to be attackin' back at me
My chap I'm strapped have the fifty pound metal in the back seat
SongtexteAnd it's all legal, got me dumpin' at ya Regal wid the do dirty
Gotta get mine done no matter who hurt me
Every bitch I got I got the key to the spot
Better hide yo bitch before I get the key to your spot
Stand right over ya bed wid yo glock
Put one right in ya head ya whole cake
You ain't even gon' play my shit rock up just like cocaine
You a no name I'm preachin' you still reachin' for fame

[Tall Cann]
Same old shit but a different day
Back at these niggaz like boomerangs
Nigga wanna come around and do my thang
Bangin' these niggaz for the dead issues
Call the paramedics to get you
Not fuckin' wid me in this lifetime
Not thinkin' in my right mind
Like Mike Tyson when it's my time
Got these niggaz hollerin' woof
Baby you ain't hard as hundred proof
My fellow you just a nigga that won't fit in a puddle
Piece a shit, nut ridin' get your ass outta hidin'
Dip on 21st street ridin' there won't be a survivor
Yo ass ain't no McGuyver you done say the wrong thangs
The method that I got to give 'em bustin' out some teeth to say the less
You can save the rest for later
I mean I'm way to major like E-major nigga
You claimin' my game but you ain't nothin' but a hater
So when I pull out my tool scram
Ya riddled drain eggs and ham you in the fryin' pan
The way I reach out and snap a nigga like a rubber band
Oh no there goes another man tryna fuck wid the Siccmade fam
Uh, Uh again?, God damn

[CO]
These niggaz talk alot of shit but don't really know about C-O
That sneaky motherfucka hit ya ass like ya P-O
When ya least expect it with the cold Smith and Wesson
Have my bitch, set you up at the telly get you undressin'
Then it's lights camera action my pistol's blastin'
Ya night went from cashin' to missin' fractions
But shit do happen, so ya shoulda been ready
Instead of doin' all that yappin' shoulda copped you somethin' heavy
We deadly, like rattlesnake bites y'all the taddlin' type
Deal wit my pain and probably rattle ya life
So instead of worryin' about ours you need to see
What's the matter wit ya life?
What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get it right?
What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get a life?
Then spark it up this hitter does so ya can't get no ice
So now ya wanna hold a grudge wid, niggaz like us
Beause we move shit like drugs where y'all stayin' and cus
And talk about the same shit all day
And us we on the next page and after that the next page
So try again the next day if you can't fade us today
Practice makes perfect lil' guy stay in ya place

[Brotha Lynch]
I'm a Southside rider, funk provider
Leave you in the trunk tied up, punk ya lied to us
Just to tryna glock wid us get a piece of the pie wid us
We too O-G, I don't fuck wid them mics cuz
I'm diggy down it will take plots to get me now
And I got the fifty thou, wanna bet ya not get me pow
I'm the threat starter fire starter put a hole in ya Starter
And you couldn't find me cause it's time for departure
Tryna get ya CD's out, I know it start ya
Blame it on me I got heat, I leave ya scortched up
I'm on the porch and nuttin' up, Southside, keep locked
Where the G's knock niggaz out for fuckin' up, we tuck 'em up
Me and C-O and Tall Cann you can't fuck wid us
We somethin' rough you niggaz be punkin' up we got pumps and stuff
All up in the trunk and stuff we be waitin' for attack
Get me sprayin' on ya pack and now you layin' on ya back
You ain't payin' all ya rap taxes institute of malpractice
I put ya raps in a casket you half plastic
Patty mealed ass nigga put ya raps in the thrashbin
Ya clashin' wid the Burbank titan fasten ya seatbelts
I'm bout to make ya meat melt
That beer breath spittin' meat chunks at ya wig punk
I fear less rather hear less, you niggaz is tryna pay less
I make ya days less trippin' on the famous tryna get famous
Nigga please

[Tall Cann]
Ain't nobody fuckin' wit me, this side of the city
Northside gangsta ride turn you liars to sissies
You ain't bangin' shit so miss me wid ya bullshit comment
You know me, I worship drama that was a curse from my momma
So if you wanna bring it here boy
Northgate in El camino I'm right here boy
All day long all night strong we be runnin' the North
And I can have niggaz from your hood, run on ya porch
Ya little cowards keep the gun in ya shorts
We keep the blunts and the ports to blaze up
After ya spirit raise up you still
think you can rap you need to give them days up
It's gonna cost you ya cap takin' cheap shots at us
So cuz toss me the strap and put these streets on hush
Because they full of wack niggaz and they speak too much
And now we can't have that because we G too much
So I'ma end it on this fact nigga'll bleed too much
Ya keep talkin'

(feat. Zigg Zagg)

[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch]
Must be some leakage in my click, some niggas done ran up in my shit
Forced to use the fo-fifth, leavin 'em layin' in Ol 8 English piss
Got me all stressin' and sick, pickin' up bodies 'n draggin 'em, body baggin 'em
Try'na get it all done before the wagon come stashin' them
Aye put Scarface on the T.V, put the volume up to ten and a half
That way when the police come, Al Pacino bustin' caps
I got away with a killin', it was self defence
Had to rinse niggas off the hallway walls, send my hate out to all they dogs
Yellin' like a psycho when I pulled it
It was cuttin' every bullet plenty of full clips
Fuck em, feed em tef' tips
Got a tool kit, filled of kill em up shit
I be puttin' niggas on the ground wid it, fuck niggas who ain't down wid it
They can hit the back door, see I'ma handle this
I'm so scandalous, like a preacher to teach ya of this (?) shit
If I gotta trip, I'ma heat ya and eat ya
I swear I'm serious, herious, feriously hittin' chest plates
I hit them niggas up quick and have it all cleaned up by the next day

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch]
See I was shootin' through the hallway
Try'na hit everything in sight
Thinkin' in my mind I knew this shit could happen one night
SongtexteGotta hit that one right, when I hit that one left
And I'm in the room fillin' up the wycelf, quiet steps - Boom!
Muthafucka what'chu doin' here, don't you know I got kids?
Hold up, he ain't dead yet, one mo' to the ribs
Try'na get body parts to relatives, like nigga you don't get it?
I cut when I hit it, nigga nuts 'n guts ripped when I did it

[Verse 2: Zigg Zagg]
Night after night, I had another thought of destruction
Until this evening, couldn't believe it ran up in my home with the heat, buckin
My baby's watchin' it, front row seated, with the chrome to the (?) momma
No pain right now, but later on down the line with the head drama
Didn't expect this to happen to me but this evening was heated
When I walked outta the bedroom, witnessed 'em flash by deep and all black eye ...(?)
I mean five or six of 'em, strapped, with the nine-milla to my face
I (?) the hallway, backed up, and ran to the closet for the 12 gauge
What could I do right now beside let it all surface
Then come fuck up your shit on purpose, I got your whole system nervous
But you lied to me compulsive, hit me the hardest like explosives
into your underground Black Market recordin' shit, get focused
Dis Siccmade, can't nothin' possibly take that away
But if you make me mad, I get that rage
Inflict pain, then make arrangements
Labelled the most wanted, the most dangerous
Wake up out of a dead sleep, walkin' to the murder
Then flamed the rush

[Chorus x1]

[Verse 3: Brotha Lynch]
See now it's two weeks later, I had to cut like a cheese grater
Did in all black like a Raider and hit niggas up like a pager, red beam laser
My trust got all fucked up so now I'm watchin' the lights behind me
Tuckin' the metal stuff, try'na get that shit behind me
Testin' my ghetto luck, in the streets Zigg Zagg, my crimey
We lookin' for that prime meat
We lookin' for that man that plotted the crime to try to tie my
life span, splatter my pipe dream
Leave you stiff like a mic stand
Yeah I'm the Burbank titan, whether you likin' it or not
Grew up right out of 24th street, yeah some call it the block
And when they first hit the locks, see I was shot
All I saw was chrome and niggas in black ski masks, comin' in my home
They try'na take my money, they try'na get paid, so I don't blame 'em
But I wish I had the chopper to put the flame to 'em
But I didn't, just a hand pistol, same doin', bone gristle
Came to 'em, dumpin at shadows, and I was havin' shoot-out battles

[Chorus x2]

[Нет текста]

[Damn nigga what you been doin'?]
I'm still walkin' this walk nigga
[Uh, heard that shit]
So watch out

[Verse 1]
See you know us nigga, we run up in ya house
Run up in ya room and put the gun up in ya mouth
Next thing you know, you just one up in a pouch
That's what you fuckin' wid when you come up in the South
I spit slugs, I be off them drugs kick it wid thug niggas
Plug niggas, with blood on the rug
Nigga we got gut splitters and shovels we gravediggers
Wid troublesome ways and we bubble some days and some days
We shovel ya grave and we wrinkle ya page
We got shooters on the team like the Lakers we post up
And then bake 'em wid the toaster
From long distance or close up
We send 'em heat rocks, put 'em up under the sheetrock
Cheap talk, makin' all the streets hot
With the heat from the glock
and I pop holes in ya Chevy block
And I pop those if ya ready or not get set go
Burn you with the petrol, wet those niggas wid cold showers
Crept on them niggas and they laid out wid gun powder
That's one route I'm full of them scams
SongtextePull and advance through your livin' room window
Then I'm leavin' wid blood on my hands
I'm a nympho, murder ya kinfolks two to the temple
Lay 'em on the ground from the five pound it's that simple
You know me nigga, I stay up in the cut
Every chance I get I get way up in a slut
Every once in a while I gotta touch a nigga up
So I hit the bomb and split ya palm wid paper cuts
I'm a oven when it comes to this thuggin' I spit fire
Chop ya lil rhymes to bits, 'til I'm tired
of the ecstacy and 'yac and kool-aid nigga I'm wired
I'm a sicc nigga I rip out ya bottom teeth wid the pliers
And I'm tired, of the rumors I disconnect, the tuner
I hit ya neck wid the ruger and get respect this a shooter
And ya knew the, shit like this, fool you better back up
Tuck niggas up like buttercups somebody better get yo stuff

[Hook]
Cause it's get bacc time
Eye for an eye tooth for tooth
This ain't just no rhyme
Somebody gotta die and that's the truth
Ya shouldn'ta spit that line
Now look at ya hidin' in ya coupe
Cause it's get bacc time
It ain't gonna be us so it's gotta be you
It's like four plus four nigga
This shit easy as addition
To get back niggas and have 'em missin'
Wha-what what to strip wack niggas and have 'em drippin'
Plugged for crossin' love when my thug bring y'all the endin'
[x2]

[Verse 2]
Please believe it, it happens daily
Make bitch niggas have my babies (then what?)
Fuck 'em in the ass give 'em rabies
Tuck 'em in the grass I'm off the shady O-eighty
Wid the salt shaker tryna eat niggas up like
Stanley Dean bacon killer slash make me shellin' out
She loves me loves me not, slugs be hot
Run up in yo million dollar spot
And get the, drugs and glocks and I leave the
Bloody rug spots and I get the
Money powder and the ice and I'm from the
Nutty Blocc hit the lights and I'm 'bout to
Get the kids and the wife and I'm 'bout to
Hold 'em hostage if I don't get what I want
Cut 'em up in little sausages, wreckless how Lynch is
You want no vengeance, my shit spit fine lines in yo extensions
It grips like a tiger so it ain't no sensin'
Tryna get away I been dyin' to get a day to touch you up
I mean hire motherfuckers that'll fuck you up
Wire motherfuckers all for the wet
I be shootin' that twelve guage offa the steps
Nigga off wid ya neck, ever since then, plottin' ya death
Get caught in your Lex take a quick wind get shot in the chest
Get ya cops and the tec, cause ever since then
Nothin'll rest 'til they gettin' locked in the pen
Cockin' a tec, poppin' the gin, quick to hide 'til ya set
See I'm at it again not 'til ya sweatin'
It's not under ya neck it's over ya head
It's over ya dead stood over ya bed pointin' a tec
Four to ya head jumped in the Nova and fled
I'm like a motherfuckin' gangsta
Bitch ass nigga I cut off ya middle finger

[Hook x1]

[Verse 3]
Like D-M-X I'm a ruff ryder, leave ya tied up
Wid ya nuts fried up
I'm the nigga that creep when it's dark in the sky
Parkin' the ride and then dartin' inside
Ya spot wid automatic toys nigga this sparkin' a riot
Good shit better hide behind ya boys
nigga add gas to the flames then
blast at ya main land, switch ya whole game plan
Leavin' bloody stains and wid enough nigga nuts and guts and
(Where?) Bodies in the Hudson I keep it bustin' and bustin'
I'm the medicine man like Robitussin
Hold ya huffin' and puffin' before I
Split ya tongue wid the jack knife better act right
and attack right now if you wanna get the Hung I split ya lung
If you lookin' for some of that sicc shit this the one
If you lookin' for some of that shoot 'em up kill 'em up
better get ya gun, young ass rappers
I'm like R.Kelly I fuck the young in this rap game
Cum on ya belly cum on ya tongue
Shit I'm one of the ones blowin' you up eatin' you up and then
Throwin' you up knowin' you sucked big fat nut nigga

[Hook x1]

[Нет текста]

Whats up man?

[Lynch] Whats that?

Its that prozac

[Lynch] How many - how many milligrams is that?

Shit, five hundred. Better watch out for these boys

[Lynch] Let me get some of that. I NEED it

Hahaha... Shit. What the fucks wrong with you boy. Whats up..

[Chorus]
See - my mind ain't right - I got personal issues
Bout to drop your family off a box of some tissues
Cause they won't find your body - shine your lobby
With flashlights - run in your spot time the robbery

[Verse 1]
Last night ran in your spot - blinded the other three
Talkin to my A-K forty seven like cover me
I'm goin' in - here I go again
Back to fuckin' with that O-8 English mixed with gin
Back to tuckin' shit thats cold make things rip your chin
SongtexteCrack your dome I'm takin' gold thangs - shake mixed with cocaine
No brain - nigga it ain't no thang to
Run up on you with the rain leavin blood stains - who
Wanna fuck with me - the psycho of the city
I spit poison like poison boy back in the eighties
And it ain't pretty - the Sacramento Frank Nitty
The black version - all you heard is the Mac burstin'

[Chorus]
My mind ain't right - I got personal issues
Bout to drop your family off a box of some tissues
My mind ain't right - I got personal issues
Bout to drop your family off a box of some tissues
Cause they wont find your body - shine your lobby
With flashlights - run in your spot time the robbery

Six minutes to get in and out - play time
Run up in your house with the toys - don't say nuthin'

[Verse 2]
See somethin' ain't right - I'mma need some prozac nigga
Mentally off balance and it shows in my tracks nigga
Smokin' on a pack of cigarettes and malt liquor
Put your brains on a plate for dinner - like Dr. Lector
Red spot your sweats up - only one slice and your necks cut
Squirtin' out that red stuff - all over your dinette stuff
Drippin' into your living room - Im dippin' through your stash
Wheres my cash - don't make me take it out your ass
Don't make me take it out on your family - fuck your thug homies
Who mug on me - I plug homies with slugs homie
Thought you really knew me but you - don't even know me
All you know is I drink O-E - thats from the songs nigga
You fuckin' with the wrong nigga bout to get touched up
Like car paint - O-E and weed - is how my breath stank
Spittin' at your war tank - for the more bank
Thats the only reason what you niggaz think - I got problems

[Chorus]
My mind ain't right - I got personal issues
Bout to drop your family off a box of some tissues
My mind ain't right - I got personal issues
Bout to drop your family off a box of some tissues
Cause they wont find your body - shine your lobby
With flashlights - run in your spot time the robbery

Six minutes to get in and out - play time
Run up in your house with the toys - don't say nuthin'

(shhhhh)

[Verse 3]
Post your comments here - on my motherfuckin' nutsack
So fuck that nigga - I put his guts in a black sack
And in the back of the black S-U - ever since I was a test tube baby
I been sicker than Reservoir Dogs with the rabies
Just - smother it in gravy it'll work for me - but you forgot
Niggaz better pay me I don't work for free
Mix the O-8 and the gin and I'm like Hercules
Bout to - hurt your knees with these two two-threes
Make you hop like - Ju Ju Bees right off the motherfuckin' canvas
Its like liver and chitlins you niggaz can't stand this
I deliver the rip spit shit - that get ridda bitch quick shit
Hit niggaz with tips and split shit in half like citrus
And I dips dips - to the honeycomb - money gone
Now these niggaz mad 'cause I own shit and release my own shit
And got chrome grips and hollow tips - pointed at your face
Open your mouth - straight - ointment to the face

[Chorus]
Cause my mind ain't right - I got personal issues
Bout to drop your family off a box of some tissues
My mind ain't right - I got personal issues
Bout to drop your family off a box of some tissues
Cause they wont find your body - shine your lobby
With flashlights - run in your spot time the robbery

Six minutes to get in and out - play time
Run up in your house with the toys - don't say nuthin'

shhhh

[Нет текста]

[Verse:1]
Oh wait a minute you know me smoe ol; crate of spinach
O.G. nigga, O.G. like Bobby Johnson
And I pack three heatas like Charlie Bronson
You want some oh you won't come
YOu got sand in your gas tank your shit won't run
I'm still hungry where's that last steak
Fuck it cut out you porstate and work with that
I take a O.J. glove nigga jerk with that
Spits that ol' cracc your bacc oh really hurt your bacc
I got prolbems like COS don't desereve the fact
And the fact is I was the Siccest amongst the black kids
Sittin in the cornin' at 14 craccin lids on the 4-0
4 years later out the four door
Dumpin' at your afro as soon as you pass go
I.m The Last Mohican feed off your belly linkin'
I hear what your talkin' but can't feel what your speakin'
From the Gardens to Creaccin' all the way from Monday to the weekend
I get high get drunk and fucks somebody's sweet lips in the mouth
Catch these hollow tips in the mouth it's Sacramento's Dirrty South nigga

[Bridge]
Hey
Really don't matter(Right up to your face and diss you)
Cuz I Get;s Off like a muthafuckas you know
And it's real choppars(Right up to your face and diss you)

[Verse:2]
I'm a one man tenthousand day war
See fuck the score imma still play hard
Like tits in my face imma stay hard
And playin' you is like playin' cards
And playiin' me is like it neva happened
Got Funk whateveas craccin'
Forevea packin' metal i demonstrated to several
I spit like dierfhea I wish you would to see ya
Ripgut nigga that ol' spilt up your guts
Like meat market it's built rap like a carpenter
Graze you like a pencil sharpner
Don't get me started im like 3-50 roccin'
3-80 in my pocket don't have to cock it
Keep it knoccin from Sacramento to Chicago
Roll like 12 guage in the Eldorado Im so tight
Spydaman through the night on these niggas(commitin' sins)
Try it agian I the one supplyin' gin you shit is watta down
Can I bring your daughter down like outta town plus I nut on the face
You nigga is fake like an old ace hit you get away wit no traces hit you(like jason did you see I Get's Off)

[Chorus]
See I can be like 60 years old
But still imma eat meat
I mean Imma still eat niggas up
Nigga you got me fuck up
Mixin' proffesional wit nigga shit
'Bout to get tuck'd up you fuck'd up
Time too get in the dump truck (x2)

[Verse:3]
I get's off on you face
Yous a swallowed it up ass nigga
All over your ass nigga
So I slap it on your face
You a bad wire 'bout to get replaced
Im a bad gut about to run up in your face wit tha .38
And lay you down in the crate like they used to do back in the day
I been choppa niggas up since Sicx was sackin Yay
Back in '86 now it's '03 and im back in your face
With spits hard like a baseball bat craccin your face
Let me lace your shoelace
Im 24 Deep and imma loose case body parts in the suitcase
Make your jaw swell up like a tooth ache "Who First?"
I do work like a state job straight bob
Heavy artillery for niggas who ain't fillin' me(You niggas be killin' me)
My mouth like a .9 millimeter years later still a heata in your alpine
So it' ain't no question about mine it's about time
That I sold this shit up you must of a forgot I know the steps
So I hold heavy meatal eat'em up on every level
Heat up your Chevy medal smash on the pedal
It's the 24th Street ghetto It's The Gardens
We niggaz retarded we make your heart split trust me
We started the spits and trust me we goin' to end it by
Makin your brain tissue rip spit 'til you get tendonitts
Im burnin tires on you niggas career(yeah)
Hitman for hire on you niggas lyrics(You Know)
Evils my spirits and you know I just can't shake it(I just can't shake it)
Leave you butt naked half of you body in the refigerator
Ready for the makin' It's Now Eat
It's a crowd on the street it's been a killin' it's bad news(Uh-Oh)
Somebody give'em him penicilin tell his children ????
From the bullets just when we thought we wasn't pullin' it
Took his money and his pride and everythang
Take his honey and his ride and everythang
It's all bullshit sell it
I spit hard right just from the pelvis
Let you tell her im a nail gun emptin' out nail clips
And he's dead let you smell it(What)
Finally get to release my own shit(Nigga)

[Chorus]
See I can be like 60 years old
But still imma eat meat
I mean Imma still eat niggas up
Nigga you got me fuck up
Mixin' proffesional wit nigga shit
'Bout to get tuck'd up you fuck'd up
Time too get in the dump truck (Fuck) (x2)

[Нет текста]

[Нет текста]

I be havin' bad dreams about doin' bad things
No money, my momma is gone, it's a sad thing
And the devil is laughin, if there was such a thing
You couldn't weigh my problems out with a human triple beam
I'm all fucked up, you might find me in the dump truck
Gin in my cup, hundred and fifty on the rough
I'm a tough act to follow, leave your chest hollow
See it ain't that tough, heat that ass up with the ralo
And hit the road, explode niggas with old vendettas
I talk alot of shit so my click pack berettas to rip back your leather
The world is cold, you could find me inside the bottle at 15 years old
I was tired of all the arguin', fussin', and fightin'
Ten years later I'm borrowin, adjusting the mic and
Try'na make it through these hard times, tellin' my problems
But who cares, everybody I know got 'em
I'm upstairs, starin' out the window drinkin O.E
I know this bottle really love me, I love you too
You be helpin' me through my problems, killin' my fears
And you understand when I break down you bring out the tears
And you give me heart, but I just can't take it
Shit's hella fucked up, bad luck, just can't shake it
Half way to the grave, half way from birth
Try'na wonder what my life is worth
I think I'm cursed

[Chorus x2]
SongtexteI put the gun to my head, tried to shoot
I think I'm better off dead, where's my kids?
Make sure they ain't around, tell 'em I love um
Tell 'em bend down on the ground, plug ya ears
What you hear ain't nothin' but a cartoon
A bad dream, your daddy, he comin' back soon
In another form, re-born, with some great expectations
I'ma miss you too, believe it

Got dealt some bad punches, but I'ma roll with it
Got served some bad lunches, so who can I trust?
Got love and I don't want it, who's teachin' me hate?
Got hate when I don't need it, I believe in my faith
Diagnosed manic depressive, only learned one lesson
And that's fuck it, forget it, and let it die like the rest of 'em
Battled with the best of 'em, they can't touch me
Then shadowed out the rest of 'em, you can't fuck me
Might as well go 'head and let me murder myself
Niggas got hate for me anyway, take it, it's hell
And if I see you at the funeral, I'ma reach out for you
That one up in the corner, give his ass to the coroner
He just another foreigner, all in my mix
Don't have the slightest idea how I'm feelin 'bout shit
Cuz I maintain my composure, never tellin' the plan
My brain stained in dosia, I'm tellin' you man

[Chorus x1]

[Нет текста]

Hey, Yeah
Come here, Wussup
Let me tell you something, Humm?
Do me this favor, What favor?
I want you to take care of my kids for me
I'll be right back, Why you doing this?
When they ask you about me
Just tell them he didn't give a fuck about shit
That's what I want them to know
Cuz that's what they think anyways, alright
Will you be my voice? Okay
Will you be my feelings?
Finally let them know

[Verse 1]
You tell me this
How do you tell your kids that you addicted to drugs
And that your love ain't nothing to spark with to a dub
And even though it's just weed it got me spending up G's
Buying up keys and smoking my weed amongst thieves
I rather jack off then fuck bitches
I'll make it crack off
I hit switches
Use to get crack off quick
Do the snitches
I use to bang up the block
SongtexteThe homie cooked up the rock
While I use to look up the block
For the po po's
I know my do knows
And my don't knows
Moved out the Deuce Fo to do rap shows
And lost a couple of homies (fuck)
Big Zo he still with me
He a OG
29th street Crip
That nigga know me
You know E it goes deep
Q-Ball resting in peace
Spent years trying to fight the tears
And I got new problems resting in me
Still crying over joyce memories
Still wish Sicx and X was out wit me
So here's my suicide note (come on)

Take care of my kids
Cuz I ain't coming back for years
Here's my suicide note
My life is a joke
Baby please read the letter I wrote
Here's my suicide note
Hold back the tears I'll be back in a couple of years
Here's my suicide note
Cuz my life is a joke
So please homie read the letter I wrote

[Нет текста]

Drunken Style Nigga (Drunken Style)
Give me your clothes
Give me your gold
Give me all the money you owe (right now)

Don't like to think so I drink heavy
Dam slugs out the Chevy livin' armed and deadly
I'm taking chunks from punks who want funk
Treat'em like .15's put'em in the trunk
I slip clean makin' sure all my shit clean
Then seem like a wolverine wit a gleam in sceam gangsta lean
Out the window hit your blocc corner everybody litted up
Runnin' them tires like tha Daytonya tuck you up it ain't nothin'
Pushin' buttons who wantto smoke them bustas
See I was a baby when I first got Sicc
Did the (??????????) and alcohol and 'bout fill there wall with syphills dick
Just my kicks tricks get chop out like a cold cut heat'em up
Rocked up like that cokesta I ain't no jokes or pranksta real gangsta
Shit from that nigga who brought you Season Of Da Sicc
Admit that was my tightest shit besides this don't get me wrong every songs is a hit
Guess who made this Phonk Beta while you suckas ain't paying right we stayin' tight
Pullin' openin' Ziplocks every nite my momma neva fed me right
We was broke some i'm off that OE you know me i'm no mothafucka joke
When it comes to rippin' up shit ziplock bodybag toetag
I leave your t-shirt sweaty anyplace anytime you ready

(Chorus)x4
Comin' soon you want to hear more buy my shit 2002

Song = Drunken Style