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bang bang - brotha lynch hung lyrics

[intro]
that’s real sh*t right there
grrr
okay
got it with me, pull it out (cl!ck cl!ck)

[verse 1]
bang bang, cut out your main vein
cut out your brain, stains all over your cocaine
no thang, i put the siccness in your vein
i’m sick like i’ve been sippin’ on slits and toe mein
up in your domain with the big chop suey
empty the whole thang, n*gga, it’s tiktok to me
tick tock, tick tock, run up and get your sh*t popped
gun at the b*tch spot, put one in your pit stop
and it don’t stop ’til the cops plot
put one in your knot*knot, hit the stopwatch
now this is a hot spot
i keep heat like a teapot, creep deep in the g blocc
i’m knee deep and in heat, three minutes, leave your body by the sea dock
bang bang, not niner gang, i’m a cowboy like dez bryant
we ain’t in the same gang, i’m charlie manson but less violent
spit like i’m sniffin’ cocaine
run up in your spot and you can get the bang bang, gang gang

[chorus]
bang bang, garden gang, put one in your starter
cap, n*gga, blap*blap, n*gga, blap*blap, n*gga, blap*blap
bang bang, garden gang, put one in your starter
cap, n*gga, blap*blap, n*gga, blap*blap, n*gga, blap*blap
bang bang, garden gang, put one in your starter
cap, n*gga, blap*blap, n*gga, blap*blap, n*gga, blap*blap
bang bang, garden gang, put one in your starter
cap, n*gga, blap*blap, n*gga, blap*blap, n*gga, blap*blap
[verse 2]
bang bang, now i’m watchin’ your brains hangin’ (hang and)*
smashin’ off in a ‘stang, ’bout to blow up like propane (boom)
if there’s somethin’ in the way, i kurt cobain, get out my lane
it’s like stickin’ twenty*four needles in your vein to feel the pain
stayin’ incognito is better for me, though, ’cause of my ego
leave a n*gga in a fetal, better buy a tuxedo, that blood*sucking mosquito
i got guns like a filipino
take that n*gga to chicken hill and put him under the casino
but not me, though, i’m flying high, cowboys beat the eagles
f*ckin’ with me, n*gga, you’ll be deader than the beatles
puffin’ on reefer, cutting up meat with the meat cleaver
quarterbackin’, short stackin’, i’m movin’ the wide receiver
i’m tyreek on the bye week, the .9 speak and it’s die week
my eyes lookin’ chinese, ’bout to give that n*gga a five piece
spit like i’m sniffin’ cocaine
run up in your spot and you can get the bang bang, gang gang

- brotha lynch hung lyrics

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