Lyrics Had 2 Gat Ya - Brotha Lynch Hung

Had 2 Gat Ya

I’mma let it be known
That I’m with the foe so nigga you know it’s on
Oil my chrome cause I got murder in my blood and in my chromosone
For the fact that I take none, pack a gun in my dang-a-lang
That nigga that nigga that gang bang no never that nigga that claim
Yeah, I’m a nigga eating Jesus brains
I got the evil in my muthafuckin back and in my muthafuckin veins
Wearing my black to creep
Momma told a muthafucka he’d be dead in a week
So nigga what?
load me like a tre five sev
Pass the dank takin dead body’s to the blood bank
And while I hook em up proper
I got them swallowing in my loaded heart stopper
POP!
POP!
the trigga fiend, the niggas spleen
Plus the barrel on my muthafuckin nine, lookin plus
That nigga that nigga that runs them mothafuckas back
I got you fiendin for a nigga like you fiend for crack
Cause its like that (mo wiggita then a nigga get might packed???)
Cause in the 4 you know never know you better gat right back
So niggas know us brothas can’t go out like that
Sellin my momma the crack, watch yo back cause (You know I had to gat ya)
Chorus: repeat 4X
(Yeah, you know I had to gat ya)
(187 on a) (nigga)
Yeah, picture your death
That nigga that siccness
Figure to sick this, foo
That nigga that rips
(??? look at that nigga) that siccness drops
And as my trigga goes Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
That niggas be ducking from the buck shot
See, fuck it when the gun drops, you know its in a hoes cot
So there it goes, not the average nigga
The baby killa, (???a rabies)
Dealin that nigga maybe killin that nigga that smooth way
That mothafuckas ain’t shit to me
White nigga, black trigga cracks every mothafuckas back
Late in a day, fools used to get they squabs on
The blood gang deuce-nine Creek Mobb zone
Runnin a mothafucka like a pit bull, loadin up that clip tool
But stealin on muthafuckas like a clepto
Let no, other muthafuckas raise yo hood
Half the mothafuckas smokin niggas like wood
Got locked up with they cock up, some other niggas asshole
But atleast my niggas had enough heart to blast though
Now the deuce ain’t deep like 86
I’m solo, might as well pin me on a crucifix
The deuce-fo' age, baby killin athiest
For the funk right back, cause (You know I had to gat ya)
Same ol fool, that nigga deep load, what up
Ain’t no doubt who runs the muthafucka
Cause every cut I drop is like a muthafuckin main course
Hella niggas eat that’s why I make so many corpse
Cause when they hear that nigga that nigga that siccness drop
My nine millimeter goes Pop!
My sign going to creep them
Nightmare creeper millimeter meter
Lock up, main corpse, spirit your brain
Got niggas killin niggas, just because I’m rappin insane
Something like a Manson mind, my nigga Triple Sicx
(i got em doing a devil dance of mine)
Leavin em only one chance to die and niggas wanna used a Glock
Niggas wanna go to heaven but don’t want to get shot down
Yeah, with my .38 snub nose
I got niggas crawlin to me tryin to pack me for the hella holes
Lettin loose like Antonio Montana
With a Uzi and I’m kickin em with a 12 gauge Moss'
And I’m off, psycho like I’m Michael Myers part six
Brotha Lynch, rippin his arms off up the crucifix
And when I grab my 9 millimeter gun, puttin' it to your back
'Cause I don’t know how to act so (You know I had 2 Gat Ya)
(You Know I had 2 Gat Ya)