Lyrics Blood on da Rug - Brotha Lynch Hung, Brotha Lynch Hung feat. T-Macc

Blood on da Rug

I’m off that muthafucking OE and Gin
Once again, talkin 'bout that blood on da rug
Evidence, could have been mine or his
So i been stressed out ever since
Left him on the concrete wit' his head split
Found out where i live by this, by this, punk bitch
Knowin' its about to crack like an indo sack
I’m hella fucked up, so with the heat i commense to peak out the window, waitin'
Ran off the indo, shakin niggas like Barry Sanders
Cause they weak, like a spiderweb, in the fact to suck you up cause you weak
And i’m at my peak, when i’m buckin' at the enemy, its like ten of me
Choppin' down trees, twistin' up leaves, 'bout to make niggas bleed
Off the hook like a fish with his lip cut, get away, got away, rip gut
Hit 'em up with enough lead stuff to turn 'em into a magnet
Body in da dragnet, keep my dickies saggin' blue flaggin'
Body draggin' down the street to the end of the creek and its evil you see
Creepin through the grass, and the gardens dick hard
And i be draggin' on a garcia vega with the green flavour neighbour-
Hood make a break a duece four
Fuck a hoe, a lot’a niggas dont know
But its lose a hoe gain a hoe
So, bruise a hoe who’s to know
Youll need to follow me up
Leave your body in the back of the '84 cut, all chopped up
Look through my window at night, and you can get glass in your eye
After that your ass gonna die screamin' … and thats no lie
You’ll be passin' me by, every night
'til i come out wit the minni mac and attack like a pit bull off that dumb shit
you pulled, I’m talkin 'bout that
Murder, Evidence, we been doin' this here, ever since, ever since, day one,
day one, split, gotta Nigga gone, buy this, Biatch, fucced up, fucked up,
fucked uup, fucked uup, fucked uuup, fucked uuuup
Yeah come on
They got me contemplating on Homicide
Clutchin' to my 45
Then i miss (?) to the doja, the paranoja takin over my mind
It was all a matter of time
Before we hit where you was at
Off in your residence
Cock the hammer back and between ya eyes
For the dead presidents
And ever since day one
When this shit begun
Been in it fo' the fun
Its the Cutthroat nigga
And the Ripgut
My nigga Lynch Hung
We do this shit on a daily
Maybe we’ll let ya live to see ya Baby
If you hurry up and show me where is the do' at
Nigga i won’t kill you and your Lady
Stuff the dufflebag full of cash
Dope, greens, heaters and hash
File the bundles, i’m even in the cut
Snatchin' shit up out the stash
Got this motherfuckers bound to gag
Dragging bags, full of illegal shit across the grass
Jumped in a black 'lac wit' the windows up and smash
On my way back to the pad
My nigga Lynch splitting up all the cash
Gettin gone off this niggas dodo
And fo' sho' be smokin up all the hash
Cause we mash after the cash, fast and never hesitant
We’ll leave you and yo' bitch tied up ever since nigga wit no evidence
No evidence