Текст (слова) песни: Brotha Lynch Hung - Brotha Lynch Hung and Siccmade Muzicc Pr

[Verse 1]
It`s a must that I bust any strap ya hand ta me
It`s inherited, it runs in the family
Niggaz in the town got pounds of beef
Threaten a niggaz life, make it sound so sweet
I peel `em back like corn-on-the-cob, cap peel `em
Make `em sound like a whore on the job
Witta Mac in the backpack, fulla that crack sack
Gettin` it off (Better have my muthafuckin money)
Bitch where my siccmade `til I die shit, nobody saw
So I was able ta wipe the blood off the hallway walls
Ain`t got nothin ta live for
Can`t even trust a bitch, might have ta leave her alone
Ma had ta dig a ditch, shit so rigorous
Dealin` wit hataz, snitchaz, and bitchaz, get they brains gone
Find a new home, you one life is gone
Cuz I`m O-One, check the clock
And if these walls could talk, muthafuckaz`ll be shot
I`m about ta go 51-50, got nobody wit me
Stressed out like Whitney, Bobby Brown, weed and whiskey
Smokin` Newports, no support
But like Too Short I keep it goin`
Shootin` up forts, who in this sport wanna fuck wit me
Come on the court, rippin` out insides
Puttin` stains on thangs, that`s when I rip-ride
And I slip-slide through the Gardens witta bloody t-shirt, it won`t hurt
Look at this way, 6 feet deep in the dirt won`t hurt
Flirtin` wit murda, I leave `em unheard of
And I`m sicca than period pads drippin`
All over your hands gettin`
The back seat or the trunk, it`s your choice
Dead or alive, smothered and fried
The way you better uncover your eyes, I`m in the skies
Witta 9 tryin` ta take out your spine
Nobody know crime, throw up that sicc sign
And strike hard like stricc-nine
No recovery, you other G niggaz betta duck
Leave you in the tuxed up
Psycho, off the wall like Michael
Always paranoid cuz I be blowin` out that nitro
All day, every day, murda spray, got you in Glad Bags
Headed for the pad, and you can ask my dad
I was a scavenger, 14 years old eatin` scabs
Graduated ta nigga meat, but I don`t wanna brag
Fuck Jeffry Dohmer, he a muthafuckin fag
I got nigga nuts and guts in the bag, draggin` `em ta the pad

[Chorus]
(Corpse came ta dinner)
Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask
Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask
(Corpse came ta dinner)
Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask
Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask
(Corpse came ta dinner)
Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask
Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask
(Corpse came ta dinner)
Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask
Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask

[Verse 2]
Fuck under the influence, I`m hella fucked up
Swervin` down the freeway, spillin` my cup
Tryin` take you out this rap on the Underbelly
He ain`t shit, he `bout ta be in the trunk smelly
By me and my Relly, you never know
Whatever tho, I got auto magazines and that weak intro
What you got against me?
Don`t you know I rip niggaz up, turn `em ta minced meat
Well if you got some sense, beat it, like raw eggs
I used ta have hella homies, now they all hate
But I`ma leave it alone, I`m on my own like a voodoo nigga
If a nigga want ta get ate, what would you do nigga
I was too cool wit `em, group of niggaz and they tripped on me
Gave `em a little bit of fame, then they dipped on me
But you know, it`s all in the game, tell the crip homie
Ta hit `em witta slug in the brain, that`s what you get from me
Crash dummy, your careers defected
And you ain`t sold a record last time I checked it
You just keep knockin`, I feel disrespected
Now your neck got disconnected by the Lynch Hung necklace
Hey, I leave `em red, and I don`t eat the head
Let the Tec spit and chop niggaz down ta the ground like Judge Dread
Come up in the door lookin` just like a fed
And you call yourself a rap vet
Get out the bed, and let me fuck her like she should be fucked
All in the butt, wit the 9 milly, swallowin` nut
And you see me in black clothes, creepin` from the back
Don`t know how ta act, black blankets fulla Mac`s
I use `em for nutsacks and full body sacks
Better not let your daughter out, end up in the slaughter house
Chokin` and spittin`, chest open and bleedin`
And me fuckin` her from the back, and I hope for you ta see it

[Chorus]

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Прямая ссылка на текст песни Brotha Lynch Hung and Siccmade Muzicc Pr:
http://musworld.ru/music/eng/101/1/19527.html


Меню » Главная » Музыка » Правила » В избранное	Музыка RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Текст (слова) песни: Brotha Lynch Hung - Brotha Lynch Hung and Siccmade Muzicc Pr [Verse 1] It`s a must that I bust any strap ya hand ta me It`s inherited, it runs in the family Niggaz in the town got pounds of beef Threaten a niggaz life, make it sound so sweet I peel `em back like corn-on-the-cob, cap peel `em Make `em sound like a whore on the job Witta Mac in the backpack, fulla that crack sack Gettin` it off (Better have my muthafuckin money) Bitch where my siccmade `til I die shit, nobody saw So I was able ta wipe the blood off the hallway walls Ain`t got nothin ta live for Can`t even trust a bitch, might have ta leave her alone Ma had ta dig a ditch, shit so rigorous Dealin` wit hataz, snitchaz, and bitchaz, get they brains gone Find a new home, you one life is gone Cuz I`m O-One, check the clock And if these walls could talk, muthafuckaz`ll be shot I`m about ta go 51-50, got nobody wit me Stressed out like Whitney, Bobby Brown, weed and whiskey Smokin` Newports, no support But like Too Short I keep it goin` Shootin` up forts, who in this sport wanna fuck wit me Come on the court, rippin` out insides Puttin` stains on thangs, that`s when I rip-ride And I slip-slide through the Gardens witta bloody t-shirt, it won`t hurt Look at this way, 6 feet deep in the dirt won`t hurt Flirtin` wit murda, I leave `em unheard of And I`m sicca than period pads drippin` All over your hands gettin` The back seat or the trunk, it`s your choice Dead or alive, smothered and fried The way you better uncover your eyes, I`m in the skies Witta 9 tryin` ta take out your spine Nobody know crime, throw up that sicc sign And strike hard like stricc-nine No recovery, you other G niggaz betta duck Leave you in the tuxed up Psycho, off the wall like Michael Always paranoid cuz I be blowin` out that nitro All day, every day, murda spray, got you in Glad Bags Headed for the pad, and you can ask my dad I was a scavenger, 14 years old eatin` scabs Graduated ta nigga meat, but I don`t wanna brag Fuck Jeffry Dohmer, he a muthafuckin fag I got nigga nuts and guts in the bag, draggin` `em ta the pad [Chorus] (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask [Verse 2] Fuck under the influence, I`m hella fucked up Swervin` down the freeway, spillin` my cup Tryin` take you out this rap on the Underbelly He ain`t shit, he `bout ta be in the trunk smelly By me and my Relly, you never know Whatever tho, I got auto magazines and that weak intro What you got against me? Don`t you know I rip niggaz up, turn `em ta minced meat Well if you got some sense, beat it, like raw eggs I used ta have hella homies, now they all hate But I`ma leave it alone, I`m on my own like a voodoo nigga If a nigga want ta get ate, what would you do nigga I was too cool wit `em, group of niggaz and they tripped on me Gave `em a little bit of fame, then they dipped on me But you know, it`s all in the game, tell the crip homie Ta hit `em witta slug in the brain, that`s what you get from me Crash dummy, your careers defected And you ain`t sold a record last time I checked it You just keep knockin`, I feel disrespected Now your neck got disconnected by the Lynch Hung necklace Hey, I leave `em red, and I don`t eat the head Let the Tec spit and chop niggaz down ta the ground like Judge Dread Come up in the door lookin` just like a fed And you call yourself a rap vet Get out the bed, and let me fuck her like she should be fucked All in the butt, wit the 9 milly, swallowin` nut And you see me in black clothes, creepin` from the back Don`t know how ta act, black blankets fulla Mac`s I use `em for nutsacks and full body sacks Better not let your daughter out, end up in the slaughter house Chokin` and spittin`, chest open and bleedin` And me fuckin` her from the back, and I hope for you ta see it [Chorus] Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни Brotha Lynch Hung and Siccmade Muzicc Pr: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/101/1/19527.html Все тексты песен: Brotha Lynch Hung » Brotha Lynch Hung - In The Beginning » Brotha Lynch Hung - One Mo Pound » Brotha Lynch Hung - My Love » Brotha Lynch Hung - Death Dance » Brotha Lynch Hung - Walkin` 2 My Funeral » Brotha Lynch Hung - Rest In Piss » Brotha Lynch Hung - Trouble » Brotha Lynch Hung - Tremendous » Brotha Lynch Hung - G-Status » Brotha Lynch Hung - Heatas » Brotha Lynch Hung - I Went From » Brotha Lynch Hung - Suicide Note » Brotha Lynch Hung - Back Fade » Brotha Lynch Hung - Brotha Lynch Hung and Siccmade Muzicc Pr » Brotha Lynch Hung - Catch You » Brotha Lynch Hung - Locc 2 Da Brain » Brotha Lynch Hung - Return Of Da Baby Killa » Brotha Lynch Hung - Situation on Dirty » Brotha Lynch Hung - Liquor Sicc » Brotha Lynch Hung - Dogg Market Рекомендуем скачать: » Xtc - Vanishing Girl » Xzibit - Get Your Walk On » Xzibit f Mobb Deep - Eyes May Shine (Remix) 12" » X-Ray Spex - I Can`t Do Anything » Xtc - When You`re Near Me I Have Difficulty » Xscape - What Can I Do? » Xscape - Love On My Mind » X-Ecutioners - Let It Bang » Xtc - Dear Madam Barnum » Xzibit - Step Up » Xscape - All I Need » Xzibit f Timbaland - Hey Now (Mean Muggin) » Xtc - The Ballad Of Peter Pumpkinhead » Xtc - Happy Families » Xzibit - Double Time » Xzibit f Ras Kass, Saafir (Golden State - Man vs Machine » X-Con f JT Money, Twig - Hop » Xzibit - Enemies & Friends » Xtc - Neon Shuffle » Xtc - Burning With Optimisms Flames
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