Watta

[Brotha Lynch] I'm the hardest nigga you never heard of And I'm a pro when it comes to these tools a four four When it comes to these raw venemous spit send him his dick In a wool shoe package, peel back his cap wid this automatic Cold hefty and black shit I make a rapper disappear like magic It's Siccmade, all the way to the motherfuckin' casket And six feet deeper, get these heaters right off the lips I stack chips and I, sip these litres on the hips It's some shit that'll split ya wig You can't spit enough shit, that'll get ya big Get the gig, you pay him first then I'll lay him next Niggas be weak just like latex, cheap as Tampax I walk through the room wid a handful of anthrax Shakin' niggas hands, makin' niggas dance like Paula Abdul when I pull out the tool Ya kids get napped when I run out the school Ya nig did that, it's the motherfuckin' Lynch Take a long barrel four four and run up in ya bitch Real shit, cause it turns me on and What kind of shit do these nerds be on and What kinda clips should I put in this chrome four What kind loopty-loop ya on Pass me the Newport and let's get it on like Marvin I've been starvin' creep through the trees like Tarzan Ya meat we carvin' [Hook] It's watta, watta, and ya know I'm thirsty And even though it hurts me I stay blood thirsty for watta, watta Take it how you want nigga So make it how you want nigga (x2) [Luni Coleone] You punk niggas want war we make shit happen When it comes to the money drugs scrappin' and cappin' I'm a veteran and I bet when I pull my thang You hoe niggas run faster than cut out segas We some spiritual lyrical individuals nigga I ain't fearin' no negro we leavin' bullet holes nigga When a soldier bow down we leave him alone Tape his tail to his ass cheek and send him on home I'm a motherfucka nigga ain't you heard of Co-le My music it use niggas like a guard against Kobe Hittin' hard like Shinobi, you niggas don't know me I throw 'em harder than Drew breathes And shake 'em like police I mean who tryna take it there let me know We leave him cryin' like when a kid get a Nintendo Coleone, I'm known to stay high as a kite And shoot notes to X-Loc keep my cuz alright Hook [Brotha Lynch Hung] While you be internet thuggin' I'll be in ya set muggin You be in the bathroom tuggin' cause you can't get lovin' I'll be in the last room pluggin' while you in the front room drippin' I bust nuts on ya livin' you come in the back room kissing So don't trip cause I'm harder than you Just like every motherfucker that's a part of my crew Gimme a carton full of Newports and a metal junt from the Midwest And I'ma disappear and come back the sickest nigga you ever met What happens next nigga, whatever happens We pull techs nigga, whatevers crackin' We pitbulls in a backyard full of poodles And I'm foamin' at the mouth like Kuja Put blood and guts in yo spaghetti noodles I got problems in the head Got ya lookin' for slugs, well it's probably in the bed Got me lookin' for love all in the wrong places I'm tasteless and I chew to the bone homie Now, look at ya faces it's watta