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Yeah, the |
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Baby Killa's back up in this motha****a... |
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Straight from tha grave, it gets so deep right under the |
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Garden Blocc... |
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Oh, me? Ya can just call me |
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Manson...Yeah, we met before... |
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But ya forget that |
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I ain't gonna die so |
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I'm back up this motha****a... |
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So peep the motha****in' words from the dead man, yeah... [Brotha Lynch Hung] |
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And when I pack me a gun and, oh, when |
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I was young |
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I dreamed of feedin' them niggas niggas with a suflet a la gun |
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Motha****as get hung, my bullet weights a ton |
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The Garden |
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Blocc Don, the valley of the slum |
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Tha cannibalistic nigga that got that 9 millimeter gun |
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That nigga that nigga that got them motha****as on the run |
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They thought that |
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I was done but |
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Lynch is not the one |
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To go out from a gunshot wound, nigga, |
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I'm not done that soon |
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Bitches, they come but nut like the rest, caught one in the chest |
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Shoulda wear a vest and, oh, what a bloody mess |
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Puffin' off the cess, dealin' with the stress, killin' off the less... |
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Fortunate but they trip when my nine gets sick |
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Them niggas either die or stays back off my dick |
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Cause I'm that nigga they call |
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Lynch, I got'em niggas fiendin' for my shit |
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I empty clips, drinkin', ****in' with tha splift |
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And it's the nigga that kill for reason, it's the |
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Season Of |
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The Sicc That's why |
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I got the urge to shoot that pussy clit |
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And kill that infint, so what is my intent? |
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To show motha****as that livin' life ain't shit |
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I guess it gets real sick and eatin' bloody clit, the baby killa shit |
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Put'em in a grave with an empty 40 ounce bottle and won't even trip |
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Cause livin' with tha |
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Tripple-Six |
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Ya learn to **** devil in his mouth and eat the shit out of his bitch |
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And I admit: my brain is kinda sick |
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But now I'm like |
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J. Dahmer, |
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I'm chewin' up all the evidence |
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I killed to cure my fit, the human meat fix |
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Bitin' to the skin rips, that sick nigga, so sick |
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Livin' dead ever since... [Grisly voice] |
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Yeah, do ya wanna know what that |
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Siccness is? |
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That Siccness is when ya hug ya mama and ya dick that whore... |
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All ya do is walkin' with ya baby's mama and she's suckin' ya sons dick... |
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That's the motha****in' |
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Siccness... |
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So, ya motha****as don't ya forget that shit... |
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And don't forget where the |
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Sicc came from... |
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That nigga |
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Lynch... [Brotha Lynch Hung] |
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I take my mouth off up that cog and trip |
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Cause eatin' dead pussy clit |
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I make ya sick |
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But it's the |
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Season so my reason is legit |
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I'm havin' fits, |
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I dreamed of eatin' bloody pussy clit's since |
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I was six |
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I fiend for a dead pussy on dick, |
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I gotta skits |
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Meanin' I don't give a shit about ya biyatch |
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That nigga that's from tha |
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Blocc, killin' up tha cog, so, nigga, shii-it |
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Baby barbeque ribs and guts and, ah, don't let me get too deep |
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Fryin' baby nuts, sluts get ate out alike, dank is what crooked teeth heard |
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I pull the |
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Tampax-string out and straight put in work |
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And puttin' work without that sick, so page a nigga quick |
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So I can sell ya some of this shit and have ya murderin' ya biyatch |
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Cause me and |
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Tripple-Six grew up ****in' bitches up the gut |
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With tha 9-millimater clip, |
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Season Of |
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The Sicc, picture this: |
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Pussy meat ripped in pan full of nuts and guts and entrails shit |
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I guess they chewin' on tha clit, the sick, they just don't understand it it's so outlandish, chewin' nigga nuts to cure my fit |
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The human meat fix, bitin' to the skin rips, that sick nigga, so sick |
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Livin' dead ever since |
