Brotha Lynch Hung - I Get's Off - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1] Oh, wait a minute You know me, nigga, smoke a whole crate of spinach OG nigga, OG like Bobby Johnson And I pack three heaters like Charlie Bronson You want some? Oh, you won't come You got sand in your gas tank, your shit won't run I'm still hungry where's that last steak Fuck it, cut out your prostate and work with that I take the OJ glove, nigga, jerk with that Spit's that'll crack your back, oh really, hurt your back I got problems like COS don't desert the fact And the fact is I was the sickest amongst the black kids Sitting in the corner at 14 and crack lids on the 4-0 4 years later, I'm out the 4-door Dumping at your afro soon as you pass go I'm The Last Mohican, I feed off your belly leakin' I hear what your talking but can't feel what your speakin' From the Gardens to Creek and all the way from Monday to the weekend I get high, get drunk, and fuck somebody's sweet lips in the mouth Catch these fucking hollow tips in the mouth, it's Sacramento's dirty South, nigga [Bridge] Yeah Really don't matter (Right up to your face and diss you) Cause I get's off like a motherfucker, you know And it's real chopper (Right up to your face and diss you) [Verse 2] I'm a one-man ten-thousand day war See fuck the score, I'm-a still play hard And like tits in my face I'm-a stay hard And playing you is like playing cards See, playing me is likely to never happen Got funk? [?] Forever pack your metal, I demonstrate it to several I spit like diarrhea, I wish you would to see a Ripgut nigga that'll split up your guts, like, meat market It's built raps like a carpenter, graze you like a pencil sharpener Don't get me started up, I'm 350 rocket .380 in my pocket and I don't have to cock it I keep it knocking from Sacramento to Chicago, roll like 12-gauge in the El Dorado, I'm so tight Spiderman through your night on these niggas Committing sin, try it again, I'm the one supplying the gin Your shit is watered down, can I bring your daughter down like out of town Plus I nut on faces, you niggas fake like a oasis, hit you Get away with no traces with you, like Jason did you See I get's off [Hook] See I can be like 60 years old But still I'm-a eat meat I mean I'm-a still eat niggas up Nigga you got me fucked up Mix professional with nigga shit About to get tucked up you fucked up Time to get in the dump truck (x2) [Verse 3] I get's off on your face You a swallow it-ass nigga, all of it-ass nigga So I slap it on your face You're a bad wire about to get replaced I'm a bad guy about to run up in your face with the .38 And lay you down in the crate just like they used to do back in the day I been chopping niggas up ever since Sicx was sacking the yay Back in '86, now it's '03 and I'm back in your face With spit's hard like a baseball bat that's cracking your face Let me lace your shoelace, I'm 24 Deep and I'm a loose case Body parts in the suitcase, make your jaw swell up like a toothache Truth hurts, I do work like a state job straight bob, heavy artillery For niggas who ain't feeling me, you niggas be killing me My mouth's like a 9 millimeter, years later still a hit in your Alpine So, it ain't no question about mine, it's about time That I sew this shit up, you must've forgot I know the steps, so I hold heavy metal Eat them up on every level, heat up your Chevy metal, smash on the pedal It's the 24th Street ghetto, it's The Gardens We niggas retarded, we make your heart split, trust me We started the spit's and trust me we gonna end it by Making your brain tissues rip, spit until you get tendonitis I'm burning tires on you niggas careers Hitman for hire on you niggas lyrics [?] and you know I just can't shake it Leave you butt-naked, half your body in the refrigerator [?] it's Now Eat It's a crowd on the street, it's been a killing, it's bad news Somebody give me some penicillin and tell his children [?] From the bullets, just when you thought we wouldn't pull it We took his money and his pride and everything Take his honey and his ride and everything It's all bullshit, sell it I spit hard, right straight from the pelvis Let you tell it, I'm a nail gun emptying out nail clips And he'll still let you smell it Finally get to release my own shit, nigga [Hook] (x2)
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