Season of da Sicc-Brotha Lynch Hung

Hit the dank and took my glock off lock, and off To the 21st blocc, I'm rollin in a drop top Three for zero that black criminal mac mac ni**a That pap! pap! me hittin a couple of rounds And while I test him, hey f**k a Smith & Wesson I got my, nine at my chest and I got my dime bag Of stress w**d, a 40 oz. of OE and I'm creepin Up on some niggas in a mob and a ni**a claimin OG, Pap! hit him in that dome and it was that ni**a's worst Put him on the ground wit a brain, full o' dem nine slugs So wrap that ni**a up, put him in a hearse And I'm hittin 50, right around that curb, tight, Rollin up in a 64, 4 doors sideways to the next light (YOU KNOW) An I hit that corner of 24 street, some ni**a mean mugging Lynch, and I pop in a clip and I'm not finna get got, I'ma shoot before I'm shot for the fact I'm B-U-Double D-E-D I'm reaching up in my glove box, for the welfare w**d That's fillin a ni**a's siccness so I miss dead bodies In an, oldsmobile, up on the curb and while I'm skirtin Pass the view wit an empty 9 and some bourbon (riiight) I just adjust to the fact that niggas aint got no hope I'm fillin em up with 16s, and letting em know Chorus It's either that die, or that sickness, and it's the ni**a that ni**a that One you come see, with that 9 millimeter meter watch them 9 millimeter meat Wikkihdie come, Wikkihtah come, Wikkihtah come, Wikkihtah E-drop, styling, If I don't get you with me nina then me, you, scream, And two pop ni**a that mine in the deuce for the deuce Without them gun shells, firing, fidda them don't know me when me high Off them doughshot killa w**d, me take-a me nine millimeter nine, And me blast him, enemy for the die, cuz of dat siccness dem creep And ten baumy and a them say Load up that nine I'm finna finna go boom! Them no dubbin up that nina cut them in half with some of them Ripgut, quality, for the fundamental cannibalism Got them black enemy runnin in and when them, Sickness kick in a million, baby dying, boom! Hit em with my G like every day, ni**a, From the creek to the Garden Blocc, I was creepin from the double dead red till all the drama stop, And 50 150 is all that shouldn't even be on a niggas list Cuz since for the f**kin with I've been crazy times 6 charging in '66 and um, Niggas cant see my folk when I dump them .44 slugs all down they throat It takes one time, all night, to peel your tonsols From the phone post, you know, All up in the cut with the real deuce deuce four love I got But you know that ni**a from the creek so peep at what this trigger got Come follow me sin, come quick cuz I'm bustin all up on your, blocc Shakin up yo nuts like dice deuce four in the don't strike twice Them gon all go say "oh" about 44 times till so, Much later than you go, better off dead, but ni**a instead That I let your mama know, she might wanna follow this Fahlivum sh*t Cuz a ni**a wont last much longer, with wraps in the cut Chewin all on your nuts like my ni**a Jeffrey Dahlmer, Cant load that sh*t that sickness gets me harder than a corpse Till I reach for the greeds that ni**a start jackin off until it hurts Swallow my sh*t so thick this ni**a run loccs up on you almost daily For the digs then I'm off dick grow soft with lynch I'm chewin up babies We gonna stay sicc, for the crazy run em up gospel sh*t kicks in It's the ni**a named 6 with the locc to the brain style fix Eatin up your dead skin Chorus