There It Is-Brotha Lynch Hung

This song is dedicated to the niggas that be bumpin gums and talkin sh*t Behind a ni**a back knowing i can＇t defend myself. If you trippin, oh if you trippin then it must be you I＇m talkin bout. And if it ain＇t you ... don＇t trip [Brother Lynch] Drop niggas like bad habits that＇s the truth Mutha f**kas be runnin around actin like they bullet proof How could I trust you when you couldn＇t bust two slugs for me? Talkin bout you thug homie you really ain＇t got no love for me Anyway what you do for me? ... Nuttin You won＇t let the 45 keep buckin what you talkin bout in yo stuff? You don＇t live no where near gangsta street And if I wanted to I could take out some of yo teeth And for the rest of my life have beef and you know what I do with meat Known to cheat, creep from the back in the Cadillac Seville Pull out the strap and the tack to peel And if it don＇t happen I＇m keep doin music and talkin sh*t about you Never even mention yo name, cuzz it＇ll all come out you a b**ch a** ni**a You live yo life all secluded, if I wasn＇t around you wouldn＇t do sh*t Talkin bout you jack niggas, put him in the back wit a blue rag around they snuggle Used to have a huddle of Sicc Made Niggas now it＇s only me to rumble Eat em up like gumbo don＇t trip how could I know? I was so comfortable you took advantage of the whole Situation all that sh*t you makin it was cuz of me We was cool for all those years but I was blind and couldn＇t see [Chorus] There it is ... another ni**a went ballistic on me Couldn＇t have is way so I guess he turned his back on me And if he didn＇t I＇m just tired of sh*t I＇d rather do it on my own do it all alone he was dipped [2x] [Brother Lynch] This some fake ni**a pain How could I of knew it fat supply of liquor fluid And some green leaves that stank up the whole house That＇s how we had it everyday Make sure my niggas was drunk and high in every way 3 o＇clock in the morin comin home drunk and fall out I didn＇t give a f**k it was my homies I went all out Then I found out most of em fake like Van Damme They knew about the game but couldn＇t break a damn can With hollow tips in they hands I juked em like a crack sack Made em feel hella bad made sure they never comin back They showed me too much sh*t I couldn＇t take it couldn＇t make it Another year dealin with all this fake sh*t Ni**a yeah ... and ni**a I＇m tired of you spyin on me Kickin it with that other mutha f**ka that be lyin on me Why homie? I thought me and you was untouchable You be tellin everybody what you know, so bye homie There it is ... another ni**a went ballistic on me Didn＇t think I loved him so I guess he turned his back on me And if he didn＇t I＇m just tired of sh*t I＇d rather do it on my own do it alone he was dipped [x2] [Brother Lynch] In some weak ni**a sauce, the kind you put on spagetti I＇m a kick back ni**a but I＇m armed and deadly And I＇m shootin them gangsta medleys to yo heart and soul Known to put a mini mack in a nap sack and get off the yack and kill a CEO Then you can see me smoke circles out yo neighborhood With a tar can in my lap 20 pack and a 50 sack Metal to metal then he won＇t settle til you in that wood I can＇t help it that＇s how it is I may run up in yo crib and get yo kids You know I could, you couldn＇t touch me with a silencer form long range I tried to do all I could but you think it＇s all game Sit at home drunk and judge niggas You remind me of my uncle of always havin a grudge, ni**a Ain＇t nuttin gon＇ happen that ain＇t suppose to happen Appse to rappin I close the gap in I hit that a** with a mini mack, closed captions Cuz I＇m a MVP, Maximin Violence Profector And if you f**k wit me, f**k you in the a** with the weapon Grew up in the GBC, a hood where niggas really don＇t give a f**k Smash pass the one-time hittin blunts Smoke the whole parkin lot up And you already knew that about me ni**a what＇s yo problem? Bumpin them gums like you Green Goblin we gon＇ be squabblin [Chorus 4x]