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brotha lynch hung - i heard that song b4 lyrics

[intro]
sick till i mothaf-ckin’ die!
let me get a little strange
thing is dang, kids you know thats what it’s for, you know what i mean?
every time i hear some sh-t n-ggas sound more and more like me
makes me wanna quit this sh-t
hold on, i’mma do it like this

[verse 1: brotha lynch hung]
try to find me it’s like i’m chinese
somewhere in china they minor them n-ggas die easy
them n-ggas whiners, i make ’em red as the 49ers
leave ’em dead, cut off the head n-gga i’m a potent rymer
i’m a pokish rifle give an eyeful i’m a sniper
n0body like she c-ck back snaps like a viper
i’m in to makin’ n-ggas quit the game split ya brain hit ya gang
n-ggas dunno what happened look at the picture frame
i’m fifty-one-fifty mixed with cocaine toe maine
poison em put your boys in there after you get ate they get the same
i’m insane something stuck in my membrane its them thangs
tummy tuck em and then change clothes change shoes
range rove your brain froze
they lose they know
i could rip a n-gga to smithereens
i snake when i slither in then i’mma get my b-tch to get the keys
ain’t that a b-tch that n-gga sounds like a mini-me i’m tellin’ you

[chorus]
i heard that song before i heard it somewhere
no other rappers rap like the fo
is he an impostor i just want you n-ggas to know
you got a thin roster i’mma eat em up like shrimp, lobsters
impostors
i heard that song i swear, i heard it somewhere
no other rappers rap like the fo
is he an impostor? i just want you n-ggas to know
you got a thin roster, shoot ’em up in they motherf-ckin’ heads
impostors

[verse 2: c-lim]
is it true n-gga? you wanna feud?
yeah, this is about you n-gga
that’s a truce, but if i spit what i knew
your career could go poof n-gga
you clearly disrespected the homies
what you said was balony
the truth is that you’re rispected by none and
protected by homies
cause you a b-tch, you a b-tch and you a b-tch
and i don’t give a f-ck who it is
i ain’t new to this
when i see you i’ma take flight like stewardess
trying deal with this
you gotta lotta nerve
acting like you put in a lotta work
did a lotta dirt
they’ll find you murked
but your head missing and your body burnt
cause a lotta worth that you steal are mines
i don’ ask much, they say i ride
they say i’m fl!ck, they say i died
but everything that they said are lies
and you plagiarize brotha lynch hung
n-ggas know where you get your sh-t from
that ain’t a biz homie, we was the sh-t homie
and you flipped on us like a flip phone
and you missed on a n-gga that’s made sick
every n-gga in the cl!ck bang k.r.i.t
and the one’s that don’t hit strange
f-ck rap, we could arrange sh-t
f-ck that we could rearrange cribs
when i [?] you see the flame lit
stuff crackin in the paint lift
trying come back with my name in it

[verse 3: tall cann g]
n-gga this a madesicc, we got ‘em all sick
fall back quick, rather stick it to the basic
you’re gonna get left faceless
got a gangsta in your face
i get up close and personal, stick you with random
i’ll pick ’em, can’t be choosy, load the uzi
put the whole banana clip up in your booty
speaking on the may, n-gga you is a real b-tch
off some c-cky sh-t
i got the hockey mask on
chases through the woods n-gga
let you have it in the hood n-gga
anywhere i’m good n-gga
off the dome, i’m on your dome
deer hunter, skinning and gutting
concrete jungle, all the wilderness
21st regarding n-ggas and animals
heat you up a lot, jumping in the fry pan
i still fry your guts like [?]
then take my medication, ain’t no hesitation
i been on the [?], pushing the [?]
n-gga don’t even cross [?]

[verse 4: cos]
sh-t, i’m made sick, sick in the head
spit with the lead
‘til the n-gga blood stick to the bed
zip what they say
they’ll be talking too much
they’ll never shut up
’til the people out there chalking ’em up
cleaning their blood up, n-gga what up
i nut up, i leave a n-gga cut up
i hit a n-gga crib up and head of n-gga cut off
i stick a n-gga sl-t up
i make her spit her blood up
them n-ggas call me cute but i split a n-gga love up
put murder on the loop
i hit a loot then throw the cup up
them n-ggas sweet as fruit
their talking cute gon’ get you f-cked up
i’m nothing like your dude
i’m not a perv, i don’t just flash it
i pull it out and blast it
‘til they’re closing the casket
i bl–dy up the mattress
you shouldn’t play with matches
that sh-t will get you burned up
burn your face up like some acid
to do up in this exit
you n-ggas made me that sick
like i need extra pills
and extra bottles just to hack it
or i’ma use the hatchet
get blood along my jacket
get hop up in a getaway
and swing it like a racket
them voices in my head just keep screaming it’s a racket
and they gon’ drive me crazy, double crazy, maniac-ish

- brotha lynch hung lyrics

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