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Brotha Lynch Hung
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Went This Way
Two years ago, a friend of mine
Told me to write me a tight ass rhyme
And so i, i wrote this rhyme that i am about to say
The rhyme is tight and it went this way
And i'm on my briefcase wit some crumbled weed
Shystie niggas keep staring at me
I had my 45 and my 44
I put one on my briefcase so them niggas'll know
Lives get took
That's it just like a book
Do you want a meathook
Smoke a fat blunt on my couch wit my feet up while you get took
Fo yo skrill
Hundred dolla bill
Take yo pill muthafucka
While you bullshitin dis shit is real
I ain't no twelve inch
Can't mix me up in this shit
I got full clips
And alone i do my shit
So trust me you information faulty
And i wouldn't eat you cause your meat's too salty
I'd rather, step through a fire ring wit some gasoline draws than fuck wit you
Cause you the type of nigga that'll tell'em everything you saw, wit my
Big bad forty auto mag
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Twenty sac nigga get yo money back if you don't think you of that sliznack
Motivated, totally undominated
I got that sickness and the remedy, my momma made it
Easy fo me i didn't have to work
Fourteen years old in the backseat drinkin o.e. like kirk
Now just the other day a friend of mine
Told me to write me a tight ass rhyme
And so i, i wrote this ryhme that i'm about to say
The rhyme is tight and it went this way
I know it's been a long time, i shouldn't left you
Without a tight rhyme to step to
Think of all them weak ass albums you slept through
Well i'm yo medicine, sorry i kept you
Went to my brother's house, without a doubt
Twisted one up with the nigga, smoked'em out
Got to writin some of dat sicc made my own bacc fade type script
High enough to write a whole career full of shit
I mean blitzed, toe up, drug cost up, ready to fuck, throw up
Man i got my cheddah cheese ass nigga know what
I don't hold no grudges i just ain't fuckin wit you no mo, mission stay
Sicc made and don't let nothin penetrate my barracade
Barracade barracade barracade, barracade
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