Watta-Brotha Lynch Hung/Luni Coleone/Yukmouth/JV

[Brotha Lynch] I'm the hardest ni**a 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 sh*t I make a rapper disappear like magic It's Siccmade, all the way to the motherf**kin' 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 sh*t that'll split ya wig You can't spit enough sh*t, that'll get ya big Get the gig, you pay him first then I'll lay him next Niggaz be weak just like latex, cheap as Tampax I walk through the room wid a handful of anthrax Shakin' niggaz hands, makin' niggaz 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 motherf**kin' Lynch Take a long barrel four four and run up in ya b**ch Real sh*t, cause it turns me on and What kind of sh*t 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 ni**a So make it how you want ni**a (x2) [Luni Coleone] You punk niggaz want war we make sh*t 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 niggaz run faster than cut out segas We some spiritual lyrical individuals ni**a I ain