brotha lynch hung - no d.j. lyrics
verse 1
we can go one on one
tango with the brotha lynch hung.
i come from under the garden,
looney r-t-rded pull it out
and make ya heart split eatin
ya carc-ss. now who think they
the hardest? start it we can load
those cartridges. n-gg-s know me
it’s that n-gg- that’s in the casket.
it’s my bedroom no it aint cause i
got blasted as you quicc and learn
call me the west best. red like
asbestos test us get two to the chest
yes i’m a bowl the hole in ya victimized
holdin that ice picc steady cloccin
them victims eyes now you really couldn’t
see me be me i’m spreadin this siccness
easy like it’s a vd i’m a hit n-gg-s up
like creepy please believe me rappers
picc up the cd and they find out they
beneath me on the franchise like keke
vandaway put the body in the plastic
and drive the van away.
chorus x2
with no d.j. with out my d.j.
with no d.j. with out my d.j.
with no d.j. with out my d.j.
with no d.j. with out my with out
verse 2
now all the ladies in the house
throw ya m’s up made sicc music
till they lay a n-gg- in the cut
i wish i could pull you on stage
and put it in the b-tt, but sh-t
goes down i might have to shoot
your man up since he claimed he
was a fan of lynch, but now he
didn’t share his b-tch now he’s
out the picture like fucc that
n-gg- knife rippin that trigga
right aye meet me at the car
i’m a make sure it hit you right
you dicc van dyk- i’m a get the
clip that night a.k.a act right
put a bullet up in yo gut side
then i’m a step slide over to
6 fo i’m a skitzo paccin a pistol
opposite of his skull cause i hit
fast rip gr-ss get gl-ss quicc fast
sh-t last to long now i got the tool on
it’s goin down i’m bout to shoot up
the place embed it up down i’m about
to shoot up ya face then i’m a burn
up the tapes i’m a motha fuccin serial
killa puttin that poisonin in ya baby’s
mommas cereal here we go all up in ya
stereo like a vanerial hot like lava
partna pop you up in the saliva buccet
fucc it i’m a gangsta i do what i do
i’m blacc when i’m blacc i’m definitely blue
when i’m blue. who wanted who what’s with
it my n-gg- i dig ditches real fishes
this is the siccness you missin p-ssin
this sh-t and ya stomach’s splittin
chorus
lynch speakin:
yeah this songs dedicated to the real spittas
in the game shouts out to lil b-ttpain we in
the top five spittas of all time my n-gg-
holla at cha boy
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