Welcome 2 Your Own Death-Brotha Lynch Hung

歌手 : Brotha Lynch Hung

专辑 : Season Of Da Siccness The

语种 : 英语

时长 : 05:19

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TXT Welcome 2 Your Own Death-Brotha Lynch Hung 文本歌词

Welcome 2 Your Own Death - Brotha Lynch Hung

Written by：Brotha Lynch Hung/Hystables

And as I bail through the woods of the south side

Terror zone nine Millie chrome

Kill alone cause I trust no snitch

When I peel a dome and bail

Gone like hell right through the do

I'm rollin' a fat sack of red boggy boo n**ga ooh

Watch me bail n**ga but you don't see me though

Cause I'm rollin' fat sacks in the back of my vehicle

But takin' a puff of the dank stuff

And enough that double o a e doozy me

I'm slowly loadin' up the Uzi

Well now who's he

Well it's that dead motherf**ker doe

Well watch know comin' through with that murder mo

And I heard you know now

Whose been bustin' up on the garden block

You either give up the information

N**ga or get shot so n**ga now what

I guess you wanna dose of this Millay

Twenty four shots from that mamma's baby kill a

N**ga Mack hustle cap bust in fact I'm just a mac10

Bustin' em at your chin before I crept n**ga

Welcome to your own death

N**ga welcome to your own death

Buck for them who don't know bout lock to the brain

Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game

Buck for them who don't know bout lock to the brain

Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game

Some n**gas miss my sics

Some n**gas don't know me n**gas don't know my click

That o lock double c o g rip gut cannibal type of sh*t

Plus many more caps bust

Anymore sacks to roll up we need that high back

So n**gas done load them nines and pull them hijacks

And lie back in the cut and roll another fat one up

Tack one up for lock to the brain

Them n**gas that really don't give a f**k

Around and get buck shorted up

And dumped in a truck and left in a cut

So n**ga now watch gone do with a mini mac10 ten at yo gut

Plus n**gas nuts and guts is what I rips for

Creepin' up in a six four impala

Mobbin' a loots all up to make you vomit from the raw gut cause

Know what I do is let my nine do the talkin'

Leavin' you walkin' to your funeral lock

Diggin' yo smoke from the Mack 10

I had ya pussin' just in case

I got me a mac11 for your face that's leavin' no trace

Caps leavin' a gate and puttin' holes in a n**gas neck

So watch the reaper when I creep crept

Welcome to your own death

N**ga welcome to your own death

Buck for them who don't know bout lock to the brain

Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game

Buck for them who don't know bout lock to the brain

Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game

When I hit the block with a nine

Them fools better be duckin'

My n**ga duck got out the car

And started buckin' at n**gas runnin'

Untraceable gauge shells

Only worry is goin' to hell

And 50 they just can't swoop

See cause we mobbin' too well

My murder file done pile more than a n**ga expected

See cause have of the city of sac still ain't accepted

That I'm a pack and when I'm sweated I'm ma put in work

Cause my o t told me why Jesus got to kick up some dirt

And I'm tired of warnin' a motherf**ker about a n**ga like me

When it's hard to believe

The nine millimeter comin' out my pants gonna make you dance

See that's the city and it's making a motherf**ker stress

Gotta watch your back like 247

Unless you wanna e livin' the rest of your life

Up in a cemetery die n**ga die you'll repeat until you're buried

That nine millimeter givin' no motherf**king respect

Up on your back with your last breath

Welcome to your own death

N**ga welcome to your own death