| Off the rossi twisted, I’m not yo average package
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| Snatch it, too bad ya had to miss it, english keeps me lifted
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| We can take a, one good leg to kick it
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| My walkin til I’m crippled, talkin sick wit it
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| Top of shiznit, til it get noted that I’m liquid
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| Quick we bustin on all you rivals
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| All about survival, liabale, to burn up every bible
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| Cuz ain’t no fuckin wit my style, dial 1−800-fuck-it
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| Cuz I’m zoned up out my mind,
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| and based on the notion that it’s kill a nigga nine times
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| Sonic boom like Guile, Dr. Doom proper room wit space
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| Cuz I’m off the wall like Michael, Myers, cream like Dryers
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| I is, certified fifty, nifty
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| Won’t it be one hella’ve sight to try an get me
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| Sticky as a gasimist, I be leavin clits with hickeys
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| English go over to mickey’s
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| incredible like bitch be tryin to pull sixty-six point sixty
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| Victim full of fish, cook 'em shook 'em like yahtzee
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| I’m mo' hated than a nazi
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| Scorchin Niggaz is my posse, try to stop me
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| Brotha Lynch keeps me tremendous
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| Tall Can keeps me tremendous
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| X-Raided keeps me tremendous
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| and these be my brothers an they keep me in this
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| Big Nation keeps me tremendous
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| Capone, and Silouette, keeps me tremendous
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| Annihilation keeps me tremendous
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| Now these is scorchin niggaz an they keep me in this
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| I got some shit to blow my mind,
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| that I juss can’t shake,
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| just give me a microphone, a Phonk Beta beat
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| Watch me eat these niggaz up like Jason
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| chasin you through camp pistol lake
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| like a wolf on crank hit the dank,
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| the tank up, put on the make-up
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| an come back to life like Brandon Lee,
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| hit the corner, wit a four-four loner,
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| on a one way trip off that water,
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| Run fo yo life, the mic rock hard
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| I’m fuckin wit no grease no love fo the police
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| watch for the boner, bend over, swig the Olde E
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| The microphone fling, the leather chrome green
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| Left the scene clean, like death on halloween
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| Like a hollow tip, smoke somethin mean
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| built the mic, an the drink one for you an one for me
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| And call me Superflex, cuz like that mic I’m breakin necks
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| Run train tracks, like stand by me, lookin for any dead body,
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| I’m grip like a pitbull, leave yo brain gone like Muhammad Ali,
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| Mista Nightridah’s creepin up by the minute, sky’s the limit
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| super-duper storm trooper, gotta watch my back like Martin Luther
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| See me comin wit my bright lights out
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| Tremendous, that’s what Sicx is all about
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| Black flags keeps me tremendous
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| Dickey saggin keeps me tremendous
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| Beleini Way keeps me tremendous
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| Do or die double E, nigga deep up in this
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| Old English keeps me way twisted
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| Tequila lime keeps me way twisted
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| Gets me in the mood to handle unfinished biz-ness
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| Intoxication keeps a nigga in this
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| I mix my gin wit my Olee E, tremendous
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| Hit 'em all up, get 'em all up, out they suspenders
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| with my big bad automag, toe tag
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| for that meet 'em bottomless I betta be glad
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| I got 'em this, straight, heated glass
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| Drag a ninja wit my pants saggin, gaggin
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| I’m sick music made, sicker than a pit in shit
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| I’m wit Sicx, Tall Can and Fig
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| Dicks big, got you fiendin fo the sickness, Swartzenagger
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| Free weed gets me tremendous
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| Juicy clits get me tremendous
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| Loose lips gets me tremendous
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| Swartzenagger an you know I’m in this
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| My nigga six he got me in this
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| Tall Cen, I told ya I’m in this
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| my nigga Fig, I’m glad you in this
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| I put that on my mama I’m a make my grip
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| Swartzen-nigga, all the way to represent
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| ya know, it’s the way we gonna do it
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| nine-seven, an forever, fiends is talkin
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| can’t even knock our hustle cuz we’re tremendous
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| An ya best believe that
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| Swartzen-nigga, that’s right give it to ya here
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| Mr. Caine an I’m out |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Tremendous , by - Brotha Lynch Hung. Song from the album The Appearances, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп