Siccmade-Brotha Lynch Hung

(Devil) Yeah, the baby killa's back up in this muthaf**ka. Straight from the grave, the grave dug so deep way down in da Garden Blocc. Oh me, you can just call me Manson, yeah we met before. Thought you devils don't die, so I'm bacc up in this muthaf**ka. So peep the muthaf**kin words from a dead man, Yeah. (Brotha Lynch Hung) And when I pack me a gun, and oh when I was young. I dreamed of feedin them niggaz, all ni**a nutz and suflt alaton. Muthaf**kas get hung. My bullet weighs a ton. The Garden Blocc don. The valley of the slum. That cannibalistic ni**a that got that 9 millameter gun. That ni**a... that ni**a that got them muthaf**kas on the run. They thought that I was done. But Lynch is not the one, to go out from a gunshot wound. Ni**a I'm not done that soon. Bithes they cum, but nut just like rest. Caught one in the chest. Shoulda' wore a vest, and oh what a bloody mess. Puffin off the cess. Dealin with the stress. Killin off the less fortunate. But they trip when my 9 get sick. Them niggaz either die, or stay stuck up on my dick. Cause I'm that ni**a that they call Lynch. I got them niggaz feinin for my sh*t. I empty clips, drink and f**k with that spliff. And it's the ni**a that kill for the reason it's the season of the sicc. That's why I got the urge to shoot that p**sy, clit. And kill off the infant. So what is my intent? To show that muthaf**kas livin life aint sh*t. I gets to gettin real sicc. And eatin bloody clit, the baby killa sh*t. Put em' in a grave in a empty 40 ounce bottle and don't leave a drip. Cause livin with that Triple Sicx, You learn to f**k the devil in his mouth and eat the sh*t out of his b**ch. And I admit, my brain is kinda sick. But now I; m like J. Dahmer, I'm chewin up all the evidence. And I killed to cure my fit, the human meat fix. Bitin till the skin rips. That sick ni**a, so sick, livin dead ever since. Yeah, Y'all wanna know what the siccness is? The siccness is when you hug your momma and your dick get hard. Or when you walk in on your baby's momma and she's suckin your son's dick. That's the muthaf**kin siccness. So y'all niggaz don't sh*t, and don't forget where that sh*t came from. That ni**a Lynch. I take my mouth up out that cott. And trip, cause eatin dead p**sy clit'll make ya sick. But it's that season, so my reason is legit. I'm havin fits, I dreamed of eatin bloody p**sy clit's since I was 6. I feined for dead p**sy on my dick. I got the skitz, meanin I don't give a sh*t about your biatch. That ni**a that's from that Blocc killin up that cott, so ni**a, sh*t. Baby bar-b-que ribs and guts and uh, Don't let me get to deep fryin baby nuts. Sluts get ate out like a date, these crooked teeth hurt. I pull that tampax string out and straight put in work. It wouldn't work without that sicc. So page a ni**a quick, so I can serve you some of that sh*t. And have mudering your biatch. Cause me and Triple Sicx, Grew up f**kin b**ches up the gut with that 9 millameter clip. Season of the sicc. Picture this, P**sy meat ripped in a pan, Full of ni**a nuts and guts and intestines and sh*t. I gets to chewin on that clit, the sicc. They just can't understand it. It's so outlandish, chewin up niggaz nuts to cure my fit. The human meat fix, bitin till the skin rips. That sicc ni**a, so sicc, livin dead ever since.