Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Return of da Baby, artist - Brotha Lynch Hung. Album song Season Of Da Siccness, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.11.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Black Market
Song language: English
Return of da Baby |
You better pray |
When you see me put that nine up in that pussy, ho |
Cock it back slow |
Rock it back and forth, wait for the nut, then let my trigger go |
BOOM! |
Pussy-guts all over the room |
If you ain’t seen it |
Then you’re fiendin' |
For the meanin' |
Of that nina of doom |
2 inches in and, uh, 4 inches out |
You back that nigga that pack that gat |
And hit that indo-sack |
It’s like that |
Cannabis seteva got me stuck on stump, fool |
All it take is a way, a fat green-bud blunt and a stunt |
Cause it’s that nigga that work 'em nigga deep |
And block creep |
And witness murder, baby, kill a seed |
Once it’ll make you vomit |
Guts in a mama’s baby, nuts in a bottle, maybe it’s common |
Biatches keep fuckin' and suckin' and keepin' it comin' |
With they drama. POP! It’s baby killa season |
Put 6 in the clip, put it up that clit |
And watch them baby’s brains |
Drip out that fetus |
Bleed, it’s that nigga that kill 'em |
I’ll fill 'em all full for that sicc reason |
Season of da siccness broodin', got me trippin' for no reason |
Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper |
Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker |
Now eat! Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you, real, huh? |
Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga! |
Now eat! |
As I creep, picture every human that I seek |
Slabs of human meat |
Cause my kids gotta eat |
I lives kinda deep, dark, up in tha cut |
Where niggas load nines, and barrel-fuck a slut |
Nigga, what? You ain’t even seen me in my prime |
Eatin' baby brains, baby veins, baby spines |
I know they be cryin' when I’m cuttin' off the neck |
I’m peelin' off the skin for some bacon-fried croquettes |
Baby villain spine, that baby-killin' mind |
A fifth-pound of gin cause I know I’m doin' time |
So catch me now before I do my next crime |
My kids' gotta eat, somebody’s baby’s on the line, nigga |
Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper |
Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker |
Now eat! Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you, real, huh? |
Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga! |
Now eat! |
Get ready for the nigga shit |
That siccer-than-sicc gut ripgut |
Pick-a-vic-up, fuck 'em up with a couple of nine-milla slugs |
And put 'em on the ground. Murder toll. Buck buck! |
Slugs to the womb |
Guts all over the room |
That legion of doom |
That S to the I-C-X |
With a locc and a tech for the throat |
And a neck full of gunsmoke it up, locc |
One for the nigga who kills them infants and senses |
Then this time, I hit 'em with a nine-millimeter, meter |
Now let’s pick up me freakin' up your skin |
Never knew nigga-meat cooked so thin! |
So I pack me a nine-milla gat |
And creep in the back of the 'Lac |
With a sack of the indo |
Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper |
Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker |
Now eat! Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you nigga |
Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga! |
Now eat! |
That’s right, once upon a time |
A nigga that hella sicc up in the skids |
With a lie for the snitch |
As a victim’s stoned, sayin' «I'll be bones to the pussy clits» |
They’re a baby ditch to the mastermind |
Nine-millimeter shells, they’re blind! |
Devils made a pact to fuck with match-to-heat, it’s one of a kind |
Low enough to the shit got hella deep that I had to patch it |
To a soul who had the heart to put his mama in a casket |
Who could it be? |
Or can he be |
Locked up in the county |
Cause the bounty |
Finally found a nigga like me? |
What’s up, my nigga? |
Pull this trigger |
And take my muthafuckin' legacy |
But watch your back |
Niggas be claimin' that they sicc |
But really don’t know which way to go when they be smokin' up with my lunatic |
Shiiiit, have you ever seen your mama’s cock? (yeah!) |
Have you even seen a body drop? (yeah!) |
Have you even loaded up your Glock? |
Well, I could gives a fuck cause even then, nigga, you not my nigga |
From that 24 Garden Block |
That’s doin' time |
For shootin' shadows up in the dark |
And tryin' to bite before he bark |
And when his heart stops |
From the metal blue blocks up in the cut |
They try to lynch my muthafucka to make some dice up out his nuts |
And what the fuck goes thru my nigga’s mind up in his cell? |
That 24 Deep, no sleep, much stress, nigga |
Nigga must be livin' up in hell |
And here I am, same muthafucka that got my nigga sicc |
Tryin' to kill myself but slippin' more deeper into the siccness shit |
Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper |
Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, muthafucka |
Now eat! Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you nigga |
Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga! |
Now eat! |