Brotha Lynch Hung Album

[No lyrics]

(feat. Cocain (Paper Chasin Organization))

[Chorus x4: Nefarious]

Catch ya wit yo pants
Catch ya wit yo pants down, and maybe while you sleepin'
Don't matter what you saw, death is what you reepin'

[Lynch]
I remain real like my cousin E-Mil
Packin steel
It's the Southside whorida
Can't fuck wit these othasidas
Eastside, Westside
This situation is dirty like chopped up nation
So I stay wit the best side
Nigga let's ride (Fuck that!!)
I stay solo like a black cat
Fuck a bad wrap
I seen it happen to my cousin
I'm like the Dirty Dozen
Wrapped up in buns
“He said he was buzzin”
But you know he wasn't
Cause if life was free I would say fuck money
You can douse me in monkey blood
SongtexteFill my pockets wit drug money and duck from me
You was a fuck homie only wanted the plug nigga
Cut yo shit off like smud nigga
I gotta say fuck niggas and buck niggas
And wit a passion and keep smashin'
Get away before the task bend the corner
On a mission for rippin niggas up like toilet tissue
Wit the German issue
Now yo family gone have to miss you
I'm sicker than racism
It's everybody killa
Hit you wit the fully issue
Like PG&E lit you
See me in 3D git you
Hit em up git rid of
Did em up like dirty draws
He was a jealous mothafucka
As the story was told 29 years old
350 Gs in the bank but nobody knows
I guess it's just that season I thank
When niggas be hos
Fuckin em in the cheap mo mos
Leavin em dead in the bath tub wit no clothes
Razorbladed Grove

[Chorus x4]

[Cocain]
I'mma catch you wit yo pants down
Since you was talkin that shit
You was hard on the Boulevard
Now I'mma buck this clip
On your self I make you shit
When antagonized if you don't realize
You must be the type that like surprise
I'll rise out the hood on chrome skates
Pull a top notch bitch and fuck her ass hard on the first day
Throwin it at me wit no debate (none)
But I ain't the one to be trustin em
Ain't finna get me for rape
Punk bitch tried to hand me a case
Until I dropped her on her face
Bitch!! Take that shit and skate
I ride wit these realas
These niggas ain't neva fake
Dope dealas and killas
Whateva product could lace
One time I always shake
See I'm hella fast on that ass get away clean
Most of the time count on the cash
Hata niggas I bake em
Playa nigga I make em
Major figgas my mind is up on
Gold diggas I'll shake em
I'm that real nigga that real figga
That real nigga from the fake
Cause real nigga look at a fake nigga
And they always tend to shake
Crossed me at one time
And I told you I'll be buckin at your wake
Cause when I tell yo ass one time it's all it takes
How many rhymes i'mma have tell a cat
Bitch I ain't fake
Betta listen to the Money Hungry album shit it's money to make
And when it's money to be makin'
That mean it's money to be takin'
So watch yo back cause I'mma be in all black theivin like Gary Payton

[Chorus x4]

(feat. Kyel)

[Lynch]
It's the Hunta Killa
Off of the 9 skrilla
Wit my nap sack fulla pilla
Nigga worst than the movie Thrilla and realla
Cause this is real life (that's right)
I saw that nigga get his head tore off (by who?)
By the same nigga that took his wife
You know I come nutty stingin like syphillis
You can get your liver split
By your own bictch fuckin wit this
Stay drunk when I dip and ain't shit
I got vast amounts
Your ass'll count em when I'm shootin em down your bitch's mouth
(Cause this the) Hunta Killa deal a lot
And fuckin em shit shoes (wit the what?)
Wit the nine and watchin the bloody nut come out everytime
And you know it's mine
When I com through loomin
Wit the MK-1 and when they done they lookin like sushi (Raw!)
Wit the oozie I get the shit done
You know it's like velcro or polygrip
I stick to the shit that make you nut up wit your dome split
I want you to trip
SongtexteAnd I'll be sittin right there wit the casket
(You know!) you was at the wrong place at the right time then you got blasted
(You hoe!) Hunta Killa in black mack-10 in the trunk with the slump
I'll hug you like mama
When I use it it gotta be because I be off that juicy shit
Not use to it I'm addicted to the siccness
Might flip this nigga shit frequently
Them young g's they wanna speak to me
(But what) but they don't need to be
I'll have they hat quick
Wit no pactice
Put you in the trunk wit the slump stickin em like a cactus
And I'm concentratin on stackin grip
I got's to hit you wit the slug
No love bitch ass nigga you know
It's Hunta Killa (that's realla)

[Chorus: x3]

Put you in duct tape and leave you sinkin in the river
(Hunta Killa! Killa!)

Put you in duct! Put you in duct tape!

[Kyel]
Spent most of my time on the grind
In the bucket wit a loaded tech nine
On the corner lookin' out for the one time
And these niggas from the othaside tryin to take mine
Keep the heat on my waist line
Make bullets chase niggas and erase fake niggas
You can call me the grave digga
Money go-getta all about the skrilla
Cap pilla known for breakin in homes and gettin the goods
Cross the line of the mastermind mothafucka I wish you would
Got niggas in every hood and ready to go to war
I'm gettin paid the way I should so what the fuck you hatin for
Waistin time thinkin bout mine you should be gettin yours
You den put yourself in some deep shit
Now you hittin the floor when I come through
Kickin down your door like a predator
Spittin lyrics in metaphors
All you rap cats thinkin you the shit
My game's 10 years ahead of yours
And I'm headed for the top
don't never stop
So fuck whateva you talkin bout
I'm takin over shit and I'm settin up shop
Raisin niggas up out they spot
All you bustas gotta go
Now I'mma bust a bitch and let you know
We can tear and war wit these scary hoes
Wit a tech 9 to your dome
It aint shit for me to run up in your home
Wit the chrome take whateva the fuck I want then get gone
I was born to be a rida known as a balla shot calla
Leader of the pack
Ain't neva been no followa
Ain't neva been no busta
Dumpin on mothafuckas
Ain't neva been no sucka spillin information to the undacova
I only fuck wit ridas and realas thug niggas drug dealas
All about the skrilla cemetary fillas
It's Hunta Killa (That's reala)

[Chorus x3]

[No lyrics]

(feat. Snoop Dogg)

[Snoop]
I'm in a murderous-mental mind state, monopolizin on 'em
Enterprise with homicide, rock this dope and cut them corners (corners)
Worldwide, visualize, two young killas on the rise
Ain't that a bitch, Snoop Dogg and Brotha Lynch

[Lynch]
And we remain bombed out (what), no doubt
Eat niggas up with sour crout (what up), hollow 'em out
'Bout to open my own business, Siccmade Meats
Where you gonna get your product from nigga?
Sacramento streets (WHY), gotta be
'Cause these niggas be trippin
I'm dippin in and out the city with the ??? ??? whip (what)
With no pity, dingy, dirty, grimey and gritty, get me

[Snoop]
I had a bundle of bitchest before I had a bundle a dollas
A fist full a problems while I'm poppin my collar (ay, ay, ay)
Sockin bustas, frontin hustlers with they work on the streets
From the streets, to the sweets (to the what), to the slugs, to the east (man)
Please believe, let me holler at you nephew
What you do and what I do, I'll make you wan' act a fool

Songtexte[Lynch]
Alright, wait, wait, wait, hold up
Avian lies up in the city, smashin with the fifty-slug
No love, leave ya layin down lookin at the stars above ('cause what)
'Cause everything fade to black, like a scene change, ain't it strange
Illegal procedure through out the game, lets ya nuts hang, hit the rain (rain)
???? like ???, laid 'em up with the hay
They, found the body three months later as I hit him with the potato
Ate up his midsection, recollection, murder on my mind (ay what)
Got me chin-checkin, and they said (that real?), heard it all the time
That's what these muthafuckas think about me, they ain't made it
Mad 'cause niggas be tryna' ??? some G's,
smoke weed (??? some G's, smoke weed)
Everyday, best believe, everyday
Ay you, you nigga tryna' start ??? move out my way
Bet you never see me in black clothes, creepin out the back yard
Hard-boiled with lead toes

[Snoop]
I got so much to do with so little time
My folks smoke dope that'll blow ya mind, hmm
I bust a bitch about a quarter 'til nine
So by 10:15 I got my dick on her spine
Relax, recline, roll somethin nigga
Hit this shit, blaze it up, now raise it up
The grip and the bitch, yeah, stays with us
Now, a lot a y'all niggas be talkin 'bout y'all livin it up, and give it up
But let me take ya back to the essence, and shit
Meditate and drop a message and shit
You crumb-snatchin, no rappin peasants
The big dog want it all, I came back to snatch all y'all presents
Dippin, slippin, slidin away
From the Sac-town to the L-B, we do this shit like everyday
Do you feel me, I'm the untouchable
Fuckin with the rectable, unquestionable, remarkable,
fabulous and all that shit
You know, I'm the original, biiitch, the original, biiitch

[No lyrics]

(feat. Pook, Shotgun)

[Lynch]
I know, you remember Holiday Inn
Had to hit it from the back drinkin OE and gin
I used to eat pussy up, I can't lie,
that's really real, really real, really real
See I met you through the homies
That homie was like cuz, wont you jump up in the cutlass
Come and get you some butt
Came through swervin off OE like I always do
Same two straps in the trunk cuz where you at aint coo
I was like boo hold up its midnight and I got the eyes tight
Knew it was on just as long as I rub the thighs right
Next thing you know, we disrespecting the couch
Feel the pressure in my nutts
Its about to come out
You was like inside, whoride, I don't give a fuck
We can fuck untill I throw up all the way to sunrise then cut
And thats what happened
It was crackin like an omlet
Got you hittin that bomb shit
And you don't even enhale the chronic
Stupid ass biiatch

[Pook]
SongtexteI used to love da hoe, I can't lie
Bitch had me stuck
25 years later the fuck so many haters ????
Bitch you need to grow up
You already know what side I throw up (Westside bitch!)
Given our game back to weak niggas to help them niggas blow up
But shiesty bitch you know what
You gon get back , you gon feel it nigga
I heard the FBI tried to shut you down said you done been the nigga
Said you (???) violent thoughts
And youre a thug wannabe, followin
Doing more than lickin the pussy
They smellin a tastin, bitin, swollowin leavin the pussyhole hollow
Heard the pussy picked up a forth the Henessey bottle
Now everybody thinkin nigga fuck, leavin them whiteboys in Colorado
But fuck it, let a hoe be a hoe is my motto
Cant let it rest
Gotta get it off my chest just to express my sorrow
I guess your pimp had you impressin ???? stories
Actin the sweet, said fuck ya man,
got a plan to get yo ass of the streets
Gave you the fame without the fortune
Get you under the sheets
Bitch if you always on your back, then you can't get on your feet
I used to love this rap game!

[Shotgun]
I bet you didn't know that she used to be my main hoe
Back in the days
When I was runnin up in houses with socks on my hands tryin to get paid
It was like Courvoisier and Alize
Most couldn't fade, cuz we buck till we both gain 5 6 times a day
How could I walk away from something that seems it's meant to be
You neva trip with me
When I took charge it was just the pimp in me
You was either quick to flex with it
When niggas and they bitches got fat
But look at us now, you aint around huh
And never in my mind did I think you turned bitch on me
Skip one day and the next
Plottin licks on me
See yous a phony, I aint fuckin wit you no more
Like Ice Cube said
You da ex-bitch, you gotz ta go
You know the motto, so fuck a hoe
And puttin the bitch before the hustle thats a no
Because they have you comin up short
Spendin my last dimes, wastin all my time in my life
There's only group of one love and thats the grind biiatch!

Chorus x1 (Lynch)
I run through ho's like pounds of weed
sit a bitch on the curb and hit the 350(50)
and all these years i cant believe
somebody put they paws in my naked cheese.
Thats why i...
run through ho's like pounds of weed
sit a bitch on the curb and hit the 350(50)
and all these years i cant believe
somebody put they paws in my naked cheese.

Verse x1 (Lynch)
Met me a top notch about 19
saw the goldies and let me up in the splene
she got freaky when she smoked that weed
thats why i couldnt wait to make the young bitch bleed.
i had my champagne cut with some rump in the butt
in the back seats where i  ????
she said cant be yo bitch but i just love to fuck
man i be havin them type of ho's coughing up blood and guts.
No matter what i got the access checked the mattress and got my strap cause rival hoods'll have you end up thats why i carry that Mini-Mac...
10 on the dot and im at yo spot(now what?)
in the Cut with the killa green and it really aint all that bad if you supply me some splene.
Know what i mean i had to check that ho
if not i bet u'd see that bitches brains on the flo'.
(You know)my weed aint have no seeds in it
foggin up the Cutlas Supreme
rollin down the street in it.
Aint to need in it if there aint no weed in it
nigga i be off the hook like a telephone when fuckin with some of dat light green seasonin'.
Anyways, i had the black briefcase
and im'a leave this situation without a trace
we gets to the place i dont really wanna do it all night long
but im off that Ol E and im'a probly do it all night long.
In the morning im gone.
When you be hittin me on my dispatch
you be tellin em you the main one
but now fuck what you yellin cuz i...

Chorus x2 (Lynch)
...run through ho's like pounds of weed
sit a bitch on the curb and hit the 350(50)
and all these years i cant believe
somebody put they paws in my naked cheese.
Thats why i...
run through ho's like pounds of weed
sit a bitch on the curb and hit the 350(50)
and all these years i cant believe
somebody put they paws in my naked cheese.

(fuck the other rappers lyrics)

Verse x4 (Lynch)
Met this bitch while i was lookin for a zip
she had a seven-deuce Cut and i was trippin off da..
i was off dat Alize, everyday, hard as fuck
knowin bootches aint shit so i fucked that notch in the back of the Cut and got the fuck up
Saw my nigga Phonk Beta picked him up
he had a fat sack of bomb and a blunt i said roll it up.
Now im twisted with a pitch grip on the Alize and two miles away from a hit i met the other day told her i was on my way...over...
in my brothers cocaine white nova
shift kit, high rise manifold, 350 motor
told her i was two years older
cuz i run through ho's like pounds of the douja'.

Chorus x3 (Lynch)
I run through ho's like pounds of weed
sit a bitch on the curb and hit the 350(50)
and all these years i cant believe
somebody put they paws in my naked cheese.
Thats why i...
I run through ho's like pounds of weed
sit a bitch on the curb and hit the 350(50)
and all these years i cant believe
somebody put they paws in my naked cheese.
Thats why im runnin through them ho's like pounds of weed
sittin' bitches on the curb and hittin' the 350(50)
and all these years i cant believe
somebody put they paws in my naked cheese.
Thats why i run through ho's like pounds of weed
sit a bitch on the curb and hit the 350(50)
and all these years i cant believe
somebody put they paws in my naked cheese.
UH fo'the nine nebin
Aint got no down ass bitch on my side
You know Phonk Beta(what up?)
Down ass bitch on my side.
Just had a brand new baby.
Fo the nine nebin(nebin)
Baby Kevin
Crystal Clear Studios

[No lyrics]

[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
Songtextelike 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]

[No lyrics]

[No lyrics]

verse 1:
man these wicked streets will drive a nigga insane
the week a cock back and put a pistol to da brain
weed alcohol nicotine and cocaine
the plot to break us all down to eat
you gotta cheat to break the law down
f**k em buck em all down
yall down we can tear this motha f**ka up again
shootin nootin snatchin people out they trucks again
f**k em den them motha f**kas wanna lock me up again
have me duck stretched right writin letters home from the pin
man f**k that id rather be stuck back on my block ssellin rocks wit a glock
runnin from da cops f**k one time
grindin in da california sunshine
wHAT am i do get rich bitch f**k money sometimes
runnin numbas ride the runnas get yo bundles keep it commin when u get IT GET IT GET IT holla
money money money

chorus:
Like its one time
grindin in this california sunshine
from la to da bay to sac town and back downthey can take a bird outa town on a greyhound
or serve on curb in yah hood nigga stay down
repeat 2x

verse 2:
BLOCK SHIT WE ROCK SHIT LIKE COCAINE
HIT THE MEAN STREET TRIPPIN AND DIPPIN SERVIN UP WHOLE THANGS
HOTTA THEN A MA F**KA
THER GOES THE RIVAL U KNOW THE CITIES TOO SMALL
BETTER NO IM LIABLE ILL TAKE A STRAP UP IN DA MALL
NO BULL SHIT ILLEAGLE FO CLIPS
GOT THAT DUAL SHIT WE BE SMOKIN EM UP YOU DONT KNOW ENOUGH ITS ROUGH
IF LIFE WAS FREE I WOULD SAY F**K PUSSY NIGGA DONT PUSH ME
IM AN O FACE KILLAJAY FOR HES EVEN IF ITS BLOODY I GET MORE CHEESE
SMOKIN HELLA POUNDS OF WEED OE FUKIN UP MY GUT
BUT IM AS DRUNK AS CAN BE
AND EATIN RAW MEAT
REAK WHAT U SOW
I GOT THAT HEAT THAT'LL MAKE YAH COLD
DIE AT 21 NIGGA
F**K GETTIN OLD
MONEY TAH FOLD KILLA
SHOW SHOOTIN LEDGE HOES
LICK THEN SPLIT DONT TRUST NO SETUP HOES
WHERE DEM CLOTHES
GRINDIN IN THIS CALIFORNIA SUNSHINE
ONE NINE KILLA FOR HIGHER F**K MONEY SOMETIMES
CHORUS 2X
VERSE 3:
I LIVE A LIFE OF A MOBSTA
JUST TALKIN MONEY EATIN LOBSTA
AND LIFE SWALLOWS NIGGA JUST LIKE A MONSTA
YA BONES IS THE PROOF OF DEATH
INVESTIGATORS LATER SAID HE DIES A SPOOKY DEATH
YOU DONT EVEN WANNA HEAR HOW THEY SAID HE DIED
JUST AS WELL AS CALIFORNIAS HOME FOR HOMICIDE
WE DODGE DEATH ALL DYA TRYIN TA STAY PAID
AND IF OUR RIVALS DONT COME THEN THE COPS DONT RAID
SO IF A NIGGA AINT HIGH U NO WE DRUNK AS F**K
AND IF A NIGGA AINT RICH HES TRYIN TA TOUCH A BUCK
CHORUS 2X

[No lyrics]

[No lyrics]