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I'm one of the last sicc niggas that you herd thus far |
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You can bump me at your crib but while you off that nitro in your car |
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So I don't have to say that I'ma super star |
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But if you get high than you can feel me no matter who you are |
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Well I got medevil but I had to leave'em weak niggas alone |
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Situation dirty skweaky clean brotha lynch hung |
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That's right I gots to have my weed lord knows I'ma feind |
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Bitch nigga don't respect me 45 for the peicsh nigga please |
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I been spendin "G's" hold up nigga freeze |
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Come up off that weed cause you den ****ed around and went up on me |
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I want the whole zip lock full of shamrock |
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And if you ditch it in yo pocket I'ma heat the heat and leave you in a |
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Meat lock |
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Now thats my knock heats to the side wit the mask on |
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I'ma give you 15 percent so if you need to get yo blast on |
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And that's a fat zone thats's a good start |
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You can sac off in the sevice take it to the heart |
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I'ma lil nigga thinkin big |
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Cut off yo nuts and leave you screamin like a starved pig |
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Hold you hostage in yo crib |
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Plan the whole stuation out so I got first dibs |
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Now bigga than life is how I comin out |
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Rigorous and vigorous you niggas know what I'm talkin bout |
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I want cheese and lettuce in my wallet so fetish |
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And I'ma gonna break through like Jerome Bettis pro status |
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All this time I got ryhme on my mind every dime |
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I spend it on some weed and some studio time |
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Drink O-E out the mickeys big mouth |
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My point is I be in the cut trying to keep these snakes out my house |
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[Brotha Lynch Hung talking] |
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You know I push I push play on brain one day |
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And it played back some shit some shit containing (some shit |
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Containing) |
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Snakes (snakes) |
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I mean talk to me (serpants) |
| [2nd verse] |
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[Brotha Lynch Hung] |
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I'm one of the last sicc niggas that you herd thus far |
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You can bump me at your crib but while you off that nitro in your car |
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So I don't have to say that I'ma super star |
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But if you get high than you can feel me no matter who you are |
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Nigga now I shit lyrics but I can't use'em |
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Have yo son trippin Brotha Lynch Hungs loopin (loopin) |
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They be off that bottle talkin bout Brotha Lynch be talkin bout |
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Sicc shit I herd he ate his mama out |
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Now how this mother****er gone write some shit bout the Brotha Lynch |
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Hung |
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Cause he killin in his song |
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He say that nigga shit tight but he ain't shit |
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He say god is my witness I herd he **** them bitches |
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Which is suppose to be wrong criticizin my love song |
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You get the rope ****in wit the Brotha Lynch Hung |
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Wrong information make atemadation |
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Catch you on yo weed high (catch you on yo weed high) |
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Tow you up like a pitch been |
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Feelin dick hard when you betta get yo bitched in it gets thin |
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And I'm off this Black &Mild shit |
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Tall Cannon told me its smooth and now I'm buyin boxes of it |
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Tryin to relax and deal wit these taxes |
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Cause they be at my checks wit them axes twenty sac's |
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In the back seat I'm licenseless |
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Hope mother****in baby mama ain't no shisty bitch |
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She wanna publish ah-ight thats cool |
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She want some other shit get that hydro tube |
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Niggas always think I talk about'em because I talk shit |
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My worst nightmare was killin my bitch for tryin to get my grits |
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I'm like Marc Spits I swim a channel for my shit |
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And watch your heart split I'm doing damage to yo bitch (doing damage |
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To yo Bee-yotch) |
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And whlie your heart switch |
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You betta remember where you came from bitch |
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[another voice] |
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Know what I'm saying can't even get caught up-nitro hit |
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Staring at the holic til they got'em on sicc |
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Is ya'll niggas really even listening |
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For real doe is ya'll niggas even really listening |
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Whatever the **** whatever the **** |