Texty písní Brotha Lynch Hung

Brotha Lynch Hung

Get Bacc Time

(Damn nigga what you been doin'?)

I'm still walkin' this walk nigga

(Uh, heard that shit)

So watch out

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

Pull 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

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'

(2x)

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

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