Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung - Drunken Style lyrics
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Drunken style nigga ... drunk style Give me yo clothes, give me your gold Give me all the money you owe right now [Brother Lynch] Don't like to thank so I drank heavy Dump slugs out the Chevy, livin armed and deadly I'm takin chunks from punks who want funk Treat em like 15's put em in the trunk I split his splines makin sure all my shits clean Than seem like a wolverine with a gleam and a scheme gangsta ling Out the window hit yo block corner everybody better duck Runnin tires like the Daytona tuck you up it ain't nuttin Pushin buttons, warn smokin them bustas ... See I was just a baby when I first got Sicc Hit the bracin lacin alchohol, I'm bout to feel they walls with syphilis dicks Just get my kicks, tricks get chopped up like a cold cut Heat em up, flops get rocked up like that coke stuff I ain't no jokester, prankster, real gangster Shit from that nigga that brought you the Season of the Sicc Admit that was my tightest shit besides this Don't get me wrong every song is a hit Guess who made this? Funk baid away you suckers ain't payin right You stayin tight, coolin up in zip locks every night And my mama never fed me right We was broke so - Oh he know me I ain't no mutha fuckin chump When it come to rippin up shit, zip locks, body bag, toe tags I leave yo t-shirt sweaty any place, any time you ready Drunken style nigga So give me you clothes, give me yo gold Give me all the money you owe right now [x4] Comin soon you wann hear more buy my shit, 2002