(Lynch):

Feel my nature rise, blood shot red eyes

Waitin' in your back seat, catch you by surprise

Situations and circumstances make you take them dangerous chances

Leave you in your front seat with your neck slit, then I'm hittin' fences

Now I'ma talk about the same dirty situation

Shit you hatin', that's why your casket is waitin'

Shine your ass up like a triple gold Dayton

When I'm in your town you better cut like Walter Payton

Studio man keep tapin', I got that bitch, she peratratin'

Show your whole family, leave you on your front porch hangin'

With a note that's saying: 'sincerely, Swartzaniggaz'

Put your hands in your pocket, give it up

I demand I need my tweed, potent refer, man

Bandstandin' with the hand cannon

Split my face, muthafucka, gimme your scrill

And that Rolex in your hand, understand?

Yeah, you gots to feel my nature rise



(Swartzaniggaz):

I can feel my nature rise

Starin' at the marks that I despise

Through evil eyes, high style thoughts turn homicides

You gots to die, for tryna ride and get me

Got some off, but none of them hit me

Now on a payback tip, with a patched black mask

On the grass with a 50 caliber weapon

Hangin' up over the door of the Chev and causin' slaughter

Sid's Malt Liquor be that motive when I be loaded off that water

Saw the situation heavy rollin'

Shotgun and a Chevy that's stolen

Strapped up and ready in case these niggas wanna get deadly

We can go there, I know there's a place for busta niggas like ya'll

But I heard it's pretty deep down so you niggas better watch your fall

Too late for that 911 call, this murder's already in progress

Home invasions like Asian got me obsessed like a Vietnam vet

As I kick through the front door, blastin'

And Lynch kicked down the back

Operation: Peel-a-cap, you fools shoulda already had your gats loaded

Cuz it ain't no tellin' when we comin'

Back streets, sacs of weed get blazed as we gunnin' with the engine still 

runnin'

Cuz real killers make them real quick get aways

Spray the whole place and skirt

As quick as we can, we does our dirt

Whoever gets hurt, that's business

So please don't take this personal

It's just that murder's in my nature

So four years now, that's what I've been searchin' for

Cuz doin' dirt grows old when it's the same old thing

That's why I try to take my murders to the highest extreme

Make everybody scream, open up some spleens

Still hearin' the blood spillin'

It's just a little dream that I be havin'

Man, I love killin'



(Brotha Lynch):

I got a hard dick for killin'

Southside villain

Protect your wife and your children

Feel my nature rise



(Swartzaniggaz):

Not quite knowin' about this nigga?

Check your metro sections

Then cross reference murders by streets and dates

And how many times niggas' hoes' got raped

Mr. No Prints, the reason one time runs out of yellow tape

Fuckin' with a half deck, havin' niggas on hush

Smokin' a bowl that I re-dust

Open up your chest when I bust

So suit up, cuz it's kill a nigga night

Ain't no tellin' when Triple 6 gets to shootin' up

Movin' up your death date, with a Tre-8 special

It's way too late to wrestle, as I nestle the sword stoppers

Split your ass open like pinata

Loadin' up like a Rotweiler

Lining up like Tyson snortin' cocaine powder

Pure dank sniffer, some like a lot of fluid, but I beg to differ

One wiff of that shit and I'm on cloud nine

Nigga, don't trip if you ain't got no nuts

Cuz I brought mine all buffed and shined

Untouchable when I'm fuckin' full of that nitrate wine

That's when I bust on nineteen times and up

Cuz I'm nuts, goin' out my mind

Few, there's no luck, you fucked for life, for sho'

Get your ass up on the floor

Tryin' to catch me at that lateral, slippin'

By my lonesome, but I'm on some, so who wants some?

Fresh out the gates, ain't no room to make mistakes

Try to make my tapes, but I feel the hoe hate

Tuck my dick inside in the O-8

Must of been the way the clip mate with the .45

No body, no case

Taste the meat, can't wait to eat

Keep the street dirty, keep sturdy in your face



(Swartzaniggaz):

Ya'll niggas don't wanna feel my nature rise

Cuz I get dirty, shoot up shit with my Clint Eastwood

Leave your neighborhood lookin' like a ghost town, nigga

You standin' on dangerous grounds

When we come to Sac, better have your automatics on loaded status

Cuz me and my niggas be on the savage, leavin' no prints

Not givin' ya'll niggas a inch, cuz I'ma lynch you

Fry your guts like Sizziline

Have your homie reminiscing' about your gangsta lean

Nigga, it ain't no fuckin' with my clique

You can dial 911, but it ain't no rescue

Man, I hope the dear Lord bless you

Next to this nigga, ain't no one's nuts bigger

Clutch your guts nigga, fuckin' with this Swartzanigga

Cuz I done lost it, taggin' niggas like a pit bull with rabies

Gone off 40 ounces of O.E.

Creepin' up on you, like doin' my Magnum P.I.

Lazy Eye with Lil' Blacc Mile

Smokin' a hard dick for killin'