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sicc & high - brotha lynch hung lyrics

[brotha lynch hung]
yeah man, ya know, i was trying to tell you n-gga man
that n-gga was trippin out man. i did all kinds of sh-t
for him and sh-t, and i help that n-gga outa bad situations, you know?
cuz was trippin man, i was like man
still was talking sh-t n-gga, dirty -ss songs about me and sh-t, you know
man, so i gotta hit him back:

n-gga you tha, king of comedy
and ima be g thatz what ima be
let you see that sh-t at close range
when i tap you with the bang, wrap you up in cellophane
that’ll be the endin, no pretendin
siccmade and high side â¿crash?, do a drive by wide em
do or die by which in em, get in em, any time, any where
cut through the lane like chris webber
better get it together n-gga, i toughen up your leather with a
touch, shoot you in the neck, get my respect, you m-th-f-ckin bet
might as well not sweat when i put these flames to your set
and leave you, smokey like robinson
my oozie weigh 24 tons, and i got them
n-ggas on rum in em, and those 221â’s, you getted this done
thats why i pack my gun
cause when you tappin into this gangsta sh-t you gotta pack yo gun
some n-ggas gon shoot, some n-ggas gon run
its all mathematical, â¿bet off and get tragical?
holding out the cadillac roam with the metal thangs
to do that ghetto thang, you know, cellophane
to hit them pedal thangs
smash off in the cup where you get that â¿hedikane?
you watch that medic bring, black bags and gloves
i gotta be thug (why?), i made that decision a long time ago
drinkin 40â’s in â¿plash? dominoes
goin through drama with hoes, you know how it goes
i ain’t been doin no shows, ain’t been steppin on no toes
but the p11 9mm ruben (whatâ’s that?), is the weapon i chose
i donâ’t need much cause im clutch like shaq diesel
and i love the way the ruben make dead people
catch em comin out the church steeple
cause he did my people
you know, paybacks to the first degree
and im cript walkin to my funeral, so it ain’t no hearsin me

[a-blocc]
bouncin off to the turf, this is a-blocc
im posted pushin â¿yayrocks?, to see right through these n-ggas character
they blasted like the glock, neighborhood watch keeps lookin
but i keep jookin, sh-t i know where pablo gots his birdies cookin
i probably crook em
see the plots to get richer quicker, make my feddy thicker
perkin off the finest liquors, p-ss pen, triggas get clutched
i get my bucks man, mob, thats money over b-tches
six straight rags with switches, got the feds takin pictures
half heart half dope, invested my ism, is some pimp, heâ’s upset with a hoe
and made her hump till my pockets got the mumps like â¿gody?
ask the little b-tch, she said, âoh heâ’s a f-ckin cody.â
so d, pistols everything from fake idâ’s
i put hoes in shady n-ggas, left them eatin through our piece
roll dese through the ghetto, vogues smoked like indo
high speed chases throwin choppers out the window
iâ’m wanted by the task, and b-tch -ss n-ggas gun blast
and all i ever wanted was the cash
sh-t its like iâ’m hunted but i still get blunted rollin through the set
ima do my thing for now though, cause they ain’t k!lled me yet
and if i die then i die, sh-t, donâ’t even shed a tear
iâ’m better off where iâ’m goin man, cause i ain’t happy here
got no fear, sh-t, them n-ggas bruise like i bruise
lose â¿screws? like i do, n-gga, choose how you choose n-gga, ooh!

- brotha lynch hung lyrics

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