hit the dank n took my glock off lock
|
n on, to the 21st block
|
im rollin in a drop top
|
fever zero that black criminal
|
mac mac nigga that pop pop
|
a couple of rounds n when i test'em
|
ey fuck a smith n wesson
|
i got my 9 at my chest n
|
i got my dime bag of stress weed
|
a 40oz of OE n
|
im creepin up on some niggas in a mobb n a nigga claimin OG (pop)
|
*something i cant understand*
|
so wrap that nigga up
|
put'em in a herse n im hittin 50
|
goin sideways to the next light
|
you know
|
n i hit that corner of 24th street
|
some nigga be nuggin lynch
|
n i aint fittin to get got
|
ima shoot before im shot
|
for the fact that im smokin up this:
|
double u- double e d(weed)
|
reachin in the glove box
|
for the welfare weed thats fillin a nigga's sock
|
so its like
|
dead bodies in an oldsmobile
|
while im skirt past the corner with an empty 9 and some burban
|
right
|
i just adjust to the fact that niggas aint got no hope
|
im fillin'em up with 16
|
and lettin em know:
|
|
-----------------
|
Fundamentals Of Ripgut Cannibalism (Outro)
|
| Brotha Lynch Hung |
