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i'm not perfect - brotha lynch hung lyrics

[intro: ???]
this the made or nothing
the game is ours
we’ll never foul out
y’all just better hope we gracefully bow out
the heat is in the oven n*gga
(bake em) (x2)
let’s cook it
it’s about time n*gga, i’ve been waiting
this the made or nothing
everybody know that already
shouts out to siccs

[verse 1: ???]
come on now little todd
you don’t even bang in the hood
got the g homies thinking that you came from the hood, n*gga
run up in your residential
meth lab, next stab
cut a path*able
right up your green nova
next chapter
hold on
net page, got the ak murder capital
put out the magazine, left your [?] and toe tagging em
i’m the last of the dying breed, cardiovascular
i’m eating nine paths of divine meat
your acting, screenplay
movie illusion when you’re rapping
he’s safe, except for the children we will sn*tch em
kidnap
sh*t acting, cl!ck*clacking
stick em in the back
sh*t happens here captain
(ooh time to eat)
i spit tactical verses who get bit dracula
we’re the most spectacular rappers to hit sacramento
i mean half of the central
put the mask on and take the mask off
it don’t matter i’m in you
quick to slash all of em
[hook: brotha lynch hung]
i’m not perfect
but i know
*n*lyze the lyrics, he’s so cold
you know how they got ya
n*gga we at ya
that’s why i tell em
i’m not perfect
trust me, but i know
*n*lyze the lyrics, he’s so cold
you know i had to get ya
n*gga we at ya

[verse 2: brotha lynch hung]
okay
i got*got em
i’m about to ride em
put it on his daughter
i slide to the bottom
bottom*feed, catfish
sh*t, giving out lobotomies
i’mma be at this sh*t
with no toilet paper
vamp at the window with the pistol
busting at your scr*per
just in case it ain’t a rap thing, bullets will scr*pe ya
a lot of icing on the ground, n*gga better get your cake up
but you want me to rip it, flip it
turn em into tidbits and fix it
burn em and believe it, i’m gifted
leave a n*gga something for christmas (merry christmas)
if i got it it’ll happen
a lot of b*tches rapping like a motherf*cking captain
a lot of vicious clapping i’m a motherf*cking clapper
put your lights out pg & e what happened?
fixed the problem, i’mma get my green goblins
it’s the dawn, you better get your green outta this
[hook: brotha lynch hung]
i’m not perfect
but i know
*n*lyze the lyrics, he’s so cold
you know how they got ya
n*gga we at ya
that’s why i tell em
i’m not perfect
trust me, but i know
*n*lyze the lyrics, he’s so cold
you know i had to get ya
n*gga we at ya

[verse 3: ???]
mr. made can’t get lit like atlanta
carve your face up in a jack*o*lantern pattern
make your boys scatter like roaches when the lights on
hit the back door, shoulda been sleeping with his nike’s on
i’mma get his life gone
pull the plug on em
someone turn the mic on
bet i spill his blood on em
i’mma split his wig like a pig with dairy, eat sh*t
bury a deep dish, carried by at least six
and i’m at least sick, if i’m not terminal
i spit the aged disease to a n*gga furthermore
i let the burners go
just like the heaters on
i pop shots just like lebron in the heater zone
until they bleeding on it
so sorry for the grief at home
but the way that n*gga speak like to the creeping on
i can spit that fast sh*t
that run up on a n*gga this cash sh*t
that hit him with a mag, put him in a bag, throw him in the back, take him off to the trash sh*t like
[hook: brotha lynch hung]
i’m not perfect
but i know
*n*lyze the lyrics, he’s so cold
you know how they got ya
n*gga we at ya
that’s why i tell em
i’m not perfect
trust me, but i know
*n*lyze the lyrics, he’s so cold
you know i had to get ya
n*gga we at ya

[verse 4: ???]
i’m a little twisted and it’s not a game
gas like propane off this josé and there’s no way he’s insane
i’m the best i believe in the brains
e*e*t
staying in the street
when the homies got heat that’ll put you to sleep
there’s guts on the seats and blood that seats been gone for weeks
i’mma subliminal criminal
slicing your nipples
knife will go into you try to speak on a made
million paid and filleted
brains decayed in the grave
and the spit sound the same
he hating cause lynch strange
he gone start a rap war
just to try to get some fame
and i’m leaving him
they sick of us ripping this
cl*toris l!cking up
venomous syndicate then they get a little bit crazy
p*rn in the 80s
stick to the babies
pit*bull with rabies, no*one can save me
they’ve tried
no*one can save him
he’s fried
machete to belly, there’s meat in the deli
he died
have em spark him like a re*fry
to make a motherf*cker realize

[hook: brotha lynch hung]
i’m not perfect
but i know
*n*lyze the lyrics, he’s so cold
you know how they got ya
n*gga we at ya
that’s why i tell em
i’m not perfect
trust me, but i know
*n*lyze the lyrics, he’s so cold
you know i had to get ya
n*gga we at ya

[verse 5: ???]
so we gotta hit em up like p*folks when i bang em
exchanging round for round
it’s the made sicc middle weight
pound for pound
i’m on fire
but still feeling down for another couple of rounds
i’mma tell one us f*cked up, i’m hitting the ground
see i’m hungry
now i’m in the kitchen with something to fricassee and i’m trying to cook something as sick as he
add a little bit of cayenne and turmeric powder
a little bit of slit wrists and some neck*bone chowder
now that’s a meal
hold up
see i’s keeping is real
i see you clean your plate
and why you hating me still?
see i meant
i’m not perfect
but i got the perfect this situation
i’mma take this handwriting get to scr*ping
by the way got something baking
just give me a sec
f*ck it, give me insults, don’t feed off respect
so i’mma eat him up until a bone gets stuck in my neck
i’m the jaws of life you stuck in a wreck
cause made sick i’m so strange

- brotha lynch hung lyrics

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