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brotha lynch hung - welcome 2 your own death lyrics

as i bail through the woods of the southside
terrors on nine milli chrome kill alone cause i trust no snitch
when i peel a dome and bail
gone like h-ll right through the do
i’m rollin’ a fat sack of red boogy boo, n-gg- ooh
watch me bail n-gg- but you don’t see me though
cause i’m rollin’ fat sacks in the back of my vehicle
but takin’ a puff of the dank stuff
and enough that double o-a-e dooz me
i’m slowly loadin’ up the oozy
well now who’s he
well it’s that dead motherf-cker doe
well whatcha know comin’ through with that murder mo
and i heard you know now whose been bustin’ up on the garden block
you either give up the information,
n-gg- i get shots, so n-gg- nah what!
i guess you wanna dose of this milla
twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa
n-gg- mack hustla, cap busta, infact i’m just a mack ten
bustin’ em at your chin before i crept n-gg-
welcome to your own death

chorus x6
n-gg- welcome to your own death

(buck! for them who don’t know bout loc to da brain
them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game) x2

so n-gg-s miss my sicc
some n-gg-s don’t know me, n-gg-s don’t know my click
that o-loc-double-c-o-g rip gut canibal type of sh-t
plus many more caps bust
anymore sacks to roll up, we need that high back
so n-gg-s done load them nins and pull them high jacks
and lie back in the cut and roll another fat one up
tack one up for loc to the brain
them n-gg-s that really don’t give a f-ck
around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut
so n-gg- now whatcha gon do with a mini mack ten ten at yo gut
plus n-gg-s nuts and guts is what i rips for
creepin’ up in a six four impala
mobbin’ a loots all up to make you vomit from the raw gut cause
nah what i do is let my nine do the talkin’
leavin’ you walkin’ to your funeral low
diggin’? yo smoke from the mack 1-0
i had ya p-ss-n’ just in case
i got me a mack eleven for your face that’s leavin’ no trace
caps leavin’ a gate and puttin’ holes in a n-gg-s neck
so watch the reeper when i creep crept
welcome to your own death

chorus x6

when i hit the block with a nine
them fools better be duckin’
my n-gg- duck got out the car and started buckin’ at n-gg-s runnin’
untraceable gage sh-lls
only worriers goin’ to h-ll
and 5-0 they just can’t swoop
see cause we mobbin’ too well
my murder file done pile more than a n-gg- expected
see cause have of the city of sac still ain’t accepted
that i’m a pack and when i’m sweated i’ma put in work
cause my o-g told me y-g’s got to kick up some dirt
and i’m tired of warnin’ a motherf-cker about a n-gg- like me
when it’s hard to believe
the nine millimeter comin’ out my pants gonna make you dance
see that’s the city and it’s making a motherf-cker stress
gotta watch your back like 24-7
unless you wanna be livin’ the rest of your life
up in a cemetery die n-gg- die you’ll repeat until you’re buried
that nine millimeter givin’ no motherf-ckin’ respect
up on your back with your last breathe
welcome to your own death

chorus x6

- brotha lynch hung lyrics

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