Brotha Lynch Hung

Brotha Lynch Hung - Siccmade songtekst

Je score:

Yeah, the Baby Killa's back up in this mothafucka...
 Straight from tha grave, it gets so deep right under the Garden
 Blocc...
 Oh, me? Ya can just call me Manson...Yeah, we met before...
 But ya forget that I ain't gonna die so I'm back up this mothafucka...
 So peep the mothafuckin' words from the dead man, yeah...
 [Brotha Lynch Hung]
 And when I pack me a gun and, oh, when I was young
 I dreamed of feedin' them niggas niggas with a suflet a la gun
 Mothafuckas get hung, my bullet weights a ton
 The Garden Blocc Don, the valley of the slum
 Tha cannibalistic nigga that got that 9 millimeter gun
 That nigga that nigga that got them mothafuckas on the run
 They thought that I was done but Lynch is not the one
 To go out from a gunshot wound, nigga, I'm not done that soon
 Bitches, they come but nut like the rest, caught one in the chest
 Shoulda wear a vest and, oh, what a bloody mess
 Puffin' off the cess, dealin' with the stress, killin' off the less...
 Fortunate but they trip when my nine gets sick
 Them niggas either die or stays back off my dick
 Cause I'm that nigga they call Lynch, I got'em niggas fiendin' for my
 shit
 I empty clips, drinkin', fuckin' with tha splift
 And it's the nigga that kill for reason, it's the Season Of The Sicc
 That's why I got the urge to shoot that pussy clit
 And kill that infint, so what is my intent?
 To show mothafuckas that livin' life ain't shit
 I guess it gets real sick and eatin' bloody clit, the baby killa shit
 Put'em in a grave with an empty 40 ounce bottle and won't even trip
 Cause livin' with tha Tripple-Six
 Ya learn to fuck devil in his mouth and eat the shit out of his bitch
 And I admit: my brain is kinda sick
 But now I'm like J. Dahmer, I'm chewin' up all the evidence
 I killed to cure my fit, the human meat fix
 Bitin' to the skin rips, that sick nigga, so sick
 Livin' dead ever since...
 [Grisly voice]
 Yeah, do ya wanna know what that Siccness is?
 That Siccness is when ya hug ya mama and ya dick that whore...
 All ya do is walkin' with ya baby's mama and she's suckin' ya sons
 dick...
 That's the mothafuckin' Siccness...
 So, ya mothafuckas don't ya forget that shit...
 And don't forget where the Sicc came from...
 That nigga Lynch...
 [Brotha Lynch Hung]
 I take my mouth off up that cog and trip
 Cause eatin' dead pussy clit I make ya sick
 But it's the Season so my reason is legit
 I'm havin' fits, I dreamed of eatin' bloody pussy clit's since I was
 six
 I fiend for a dead pussy on dick, I gotta skits
 Meanin' I don't give a shit about ya biyatch
 That nigga that's from tha Blocc, killin' up tha cog, so, nigga,
 shii-it
 Baby barbeque ribs and guts and, ah, don't let me get too deep
 Fryin' baby nuts, sluts get ate out alike, dank is what crooked teeth
 heard
 I pull the Tampax-string out and straight put in work
 And puttin' work without that sick, so page a nigga quick
 So I can sell ya some of this shit and have ya murderin' ya biyatch
 Cause me and Tripple-Six grew up fuckin' bitches up the gut
 With tha 9-millimater clip, Season Of The Sicc, picture this:
 Pussy meat ripped in pan full of nuts and guts and entrails shit
 I guess they chewin' on tha clit, the sick, they just don't understand
 it
 it's so outlandish, chewin' nigga nuts to cure my fit
 The human meat fix, bitin' to the skin rips, that sick nigga, so sick
 Livin' dead ever since
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Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: Cin Sity Records

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1995

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: Season of da Siccness (1995)

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