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brotha lynch hung - liquor sicc lyrics

[hung]
look up in the sky it’s a motherf-ckin slug
some n-gg- done let one off and only my cousins sheddin’ blood
that loccest m-th-f-cka from 29 st. throwin up his flag
so n-gg- got madd and went to the crib with a .45 mag
returned to the set-up and let my cousin have it
that n-gg- that died for the garden blocc
gang did time for the garden blocc
and ended up stuck in a m-th-f-ckin casket but i dont be givin a f-ck
im tappin up in your program before you know it
i’m creepin up on ya in a licorice dark black drop-top broham
with a 12 gauge pump in da trunk and a clip full of funk
and a fat purple cush blunt so call it what you want
i call it the fever of da funkhouse
dumpin gauge sh-lls in that -ss leavin you face down
chest down with a gang of guts hangin out yo -ss n-gg-
you know tha process they wanna kill me
now i’m a dead man walkin to my funeral can you feel me
now and if die before your set gets blasted
that’s on the garden cause i’m gonna rise up out my casket

chorus: repeat 2x

i’m liquor sicc and i just might lose control
so load your clips loccs cause we ridin for our foes

[hung]
and im out in 6 5′ hardtop impala lookin for that 187
there we go and right behind em bustin wit my mack 11
straight b-mpa to b-mpa 12 gage pump was that little x loccsta
givin up his set dumpin on n-gg-s just like hes supposed ta
n-gg- this is real deal sh-t its not about crip or blood
it’s about pay back that family loves
so n-gg- now f-ck yo whole click
like 24 deep they tryin ta kill me fo my f-ckin tapes
them baby rapes so n-gg- get out my f-ckin face
if i was really bangin n-gg-z would know
cause i’d have they whole set lookin like l.a. when da earthquake hit
n-gg- f-ckin wit my tek i’m from da garden blocc
no matter what n-body say i’m makin my money
and not lettin that bangin sh-t get in my way
n-gg-z get mad they wanna see the lynch rippin
i’m wearing blue yeah but motherf-cker i ain’t even trippin
but for cousin q-ball, mr.doc, and sicx my cousin eclipse
and 2 of my kidz n-gg- catch these clips

chorus

[hung]
there aint no f-ckin way my cousin’s
gonna lay up in a casket wit no retaliation
there aint no f-ckin way that motherf-cker died for that blocc
so lets heat them motherf-ckin glocks (2x)

- brotha lynch hung lyrics

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