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ill - brotha lynch hung lyrics

[intro]
we do have meat
meat: it comes in several different flavors
mr. mann enjoys the meat
enjoys removing your skin from your body *laughs*
please, come in, have a seat
ah, made to perfection

[verse 1: swifty mcvay]
without a conscience, i spit llamas like i’m playing contra
my psychiatrist gettin’ nauseous
the opposite of a honest counselor
gangsta rappers and trappers get turned to pentacostals
holy bibles, i’m c*ckin’ the nina
i had these motherf*ckers leanin’ likе the tower of pisa
you a diva, and i’ma leavе your guts wide open
yeah, i peeped ya, you really a sheep in a wolf’s clothing
and you don’t know the art of war (the art of war)*
you’re faker than mannequins at department stores (department stores)*
i’m sicker than senior citizens in a psych wards
i’m sh*ttin’ on rappers without a diaper, smearin’ it on a chalkboard
i’m a rap lord poppin’ imposters
when i walk in your spot, n*ggas feel awkward
suicide’s the only way you gonna stop this brotha
i’ll pop myself in the brain while i’m shootin’ my album cover
mcvay
[interlude]
mmm, mr., mr. brotha lynch hung
you think darkness is your ally?
while you merely adopted the dark, i was born it. don’t live by it
why, i didn’t see light until i was already a man and by then, it was nothing to me but grinding

[verse 2: brotha lynch hung]
i’ll make some gumbo out of your insides
and then slide over to your family’s, then cry (you okay?)
actin’ like i give a f*ck, love is a thin line
n*ggas wanna battle me? n*gga, get in line
i eat meat like a tiger at dinn’ time
deion prime, n*gga, take a seat and watch him rhyme
so many styles like a boa constrictor
i could hold ya and rip your mainframe then watch your skin fry
blood already been dry, i have a twin side
it find out where you put your babies at and run inside
i spit acid, i blasted fastest
first n*gga to do his album cover in a casket
shootin’ holes in your chevy impala
have you callin’ your mama, tell her you gettin’ all of the drama
first to ever do it — obama
creepin’ through your hallway with a butcher knife — dunna, dunna

[outro]
(who are you?) it doesn’t matter who we are
what matters is our plan
no one cared who i was until i put on the mask
(if i take it off, will you die?) it’d be extremely painful
(ah, you’re a big guy) for you
(was getting caught part of the plan?) of course

- brotha lynch hung lyrics

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