Had 2 Gat Ya

[Brotha Lynch Hung] I'mma let it be known That i'm with the force so nigga you know its on Oil my chrome cause I got murder in my blood and in my chromosone For the fact that I tek none pack a gun in my dang a lang That nigga that nigga that gang bang no never that nigga that claim Yeah im a nigga eating Jesus brains I got the evil in my muthafuckin back and in my muthafuckin veins Wearing my black to creep Momma told a muthafucka he'd be dead in a week So nigga what? load me like a tre five sev Pass the dank takin dead body's to the blood bank And while I hook em up proper I got them swallowing in my loaded heart stopper POP! POP! the trigga fiend, the niggas spleen Plus the barrel on my muthafuckin nine, lookin plus That nigga that nigga that runs them mothafuckas back I got you fiendin for a nigga like you fiend for crack Cause its like that (mo wiggita then a nigga get might packed???) Cause in the 4 you know never know you better gat right back So niggas know us brothas can't go out like that Sellin my momma the crack, watch yo back cause(You know I had to gat ya) Chorus: repeat 4X (Yeah, you know I had to gat ya) (187 on a) (nigga) [BLH] Yeah, picture your death That nigga that siccness Figure to sick this, foo That nigga that rips (??? look at that nigga ) that siccness drops And as my trigga goes Pop! Pop! Pop! That niggas be ducking from the buck shot See, fuck it when the gun drops, you know its in a hoes cock So there it goes, not the average nigga The baby killa, (???a rabies) Dealin that nigga maybe killin that nigga that smooth way That mothafuckas ain't shit to me White nigga, black trigga cracks every mothafuckas back Late in a day, fools used to get they squabs on The blood gang deuce nine creep mobb zone Runnin a mothafucka like a pittbull, loadin up that clip tool But stealin on muthafuckas like a clepto Let no, other muthafuckas raise yo hood Half the mothafuckas smokin niggas like wood Got locked up with they cock up, some other niggas asshole But atleast my niggas had enough heart to blast though Now the duece ain't deep like 86 I'm solo, might as well pin me on a crucifix The duece for age, baby killin athiest For the funk right back, cause (You know I had to gat ya) Chorus [BLH] Same ol fool, that nigga deep load, what up Ain't no doubt who runs the muthafucka Cause every cut I drop is like a muthafuckin main (course??) Hella niggas eat thats why I make so many corpse Cause when they hear that nigga that nigga that siccness drop My nine millimeter goes Pop! My sign going to creep them Nightmare creeper millimeter meter Lock up, main corpse, spirit your brain Got niggas killin niggas, just because im rappin insane Something like a manson mind, my nigga triple six (i got em doing a devil dance of mine) Leavin em only one chance to die and niggas wanna used a Glock Niggas wanna go to heaven but don't want to get shot down Yeah, with my 38 snubnose I got niggas crawlin to me tryin to pack me for the hella holes Lettin loose like Antonio Montana With a oozie and im kickin em with a 12 guage nots and em Ah, psycho like I'm Michael Myerspart six Brotha lynch, rippin his arms off up the crucifix And when I grab my 9 millimeter gun, point it to your back Cause I don't know how to act so (You know I had 2 Gat Ya) Chorus 2X (You Know I had 2 Gat Ya)