[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]

That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods

Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left

And you don't know nuthin but the killa gotta away

Before 4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the 6-Tre

Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup

Cuz I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up

(X-caliba) [echo]



[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]

It all started when I twisted the lid of the Olde E

And see E-A-R-double-O-E... ... ... (??)

Where my motherfuckering siccmade jacked at

Cuz that's the only one I could use

When I saw you at the war yeah when I lifted you out your shoes

It was the pressure from the twenty game (the twenty game)

Felt like it could split your chest whide open wit it

Well nigga you should when I'm round talkin that shit

Bout the nigga that's my kin-folks

Should knew the wheel while you was givin up that info...

...mation, I'll be of that Parry Mason

When I hit em all up, creep em all up, kill em all up, fill em all up

Real deal, dig a ditch give em hit a licc then take the grip

Put em in the back of the Cadillac show em how my Mini-Mac gonna act

My tactics is lethal

Leave the whole town hella smokey 

like that band that steppin over dead people

It's like that, and you wouldn't know it cuz I'ma cool ass mufucca

Then dump on a gang of succas 

as I wait for the city to heat up like a Hot Pepper

Gotta whole load fulla Evian 

and a trunck fulla FO take no's and I can't let go

Catch you at yo show slippin

Hoes trippin, rows rippin in the street after I heat my heat of

I'm of the hook with this siccmade shit, straight made nigga

Fuck it, pass me the straight lace liquor to the face nigga

Off the Thunder Burger and Kool-Aid and O 8

Easy on the liver still make me kill a nigga

Split you head like a pineapple

Die natural!

Five at your dome send em home in a pinebox

Lift you out your sox

Pay attention to the Glock

Half pass a niggas ass where aimen at the grass take suitcase fulla cash and mash

16 in the clip crumble the urb roll a sliff bout to whatch you brain split in half

Bloody bath watter, infried nigga nuts and bones locaded at home I think him name is Tyrone

But you know...



[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]

That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods

Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left

And you don't know nuthin but the killa gotta away

Before 4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the 6-Tre

Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup

Cuz I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up

(X-caliba) [echo]



[Verse 2: Brotha Lynch Hung]

You can call me black Sadam Huseain

Pump St Idees through my wein ass nigga

You can see me on the southside of the street

Man remembered by the ((opposet)) nigga that flod the city

Get ready for some pretty if you sicc like Frank Nitty

Sucked blood from my momas tittie - instead of milk

Played murda muzicc in my tape deck - instead of Silkk

Enden up killen one of them motherfuckers 

So fuck them hoes, they like Grim 

havin killin niggas like they gots to go

With the 380M - got high til seven

Jump in what you call it headin throughwards heaven, whit my

50 sacc of some shit, that'll make you get there

About 11:30 with your T-shirt dirty, 

I'm worthy strapped like James as ventured in this faulty game

In a mainframe, that I bucked in ruff terrain, then hit the plane

15 guts on a tripple beam scale nigga

acual contact from the strap that I hale nigga



[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]

That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods

Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left

And you don't know nuthin but the killa gotta away

Before 4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the 6-Tre

Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup

Cuz I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up

(X-caliba) [echo]



[Verse 3: Brotha Lynch Hung]

They got this motherfucker twisted up

And from the sound of the barrle I got hella motherfuckers runnin up

What should I do about these fuckin fleas?

Give em all A-1 and put they seeds in they weed

Figga a way out this nigga I know you got me in file

But I got you on scanner so plan anotha way (anotha way)

Told me it was (?Coda steady?)

But I catch you slippin like pimpin 

and shake bankin like (?Trail Leonard?)

Hit your mind workin these swine 

tripp time get's deepa as you meat the Grim reapa 

in the form of a man double M 24 5 got your brains leaking I'm peakin

That's why these nigga wanna rip keep me

I'm rollin squeeky and what you want call it

witta .45 in my pocket and I'm a young alcoholic

Like P-Folks I had to make it happen

Sacramentos most wanted I gotta keep packin, cuz of that

My favorite cousin just go four years

And when his little brotha died he showed me no tears

your point is you get deep as the ocean

Take a shiesty niggas blood and rub it on like lotion

It was like: once apon a time a long time ago

I was sticken 9 milis in a pussy hole

Get of the Ol 8 old Murda moe then i gotta go to a spot

when they don't know I'm the leath nigga given up my info



[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]

That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods

Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left

And you don't know nuthin but the killa gotta away

Before 4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the 6-Tre

Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup

Cuz I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up

(X-caliba) [echo]