| Block call, Big NoLove, my nigga Sav Sicc, my nigga Bleezo
|
| Let’s get it in, to a Phonk Beta beat, you know what I’m saying?
|
| I spit the acetous, sick and hazardous flow
|
| Schizophrenic for chips, so quick to flash on a hoe
|
| Rip adamant 'til the Lynch’ll pass me the dro
|
| 'Cause when I get the hatchet I’m cuttin' shit in half at the door
|
| A nuisance to the game
|
| Bitch, I’m nefarious, etherious
|
| Even my therapist swear I’m a terrorist
|
| Various niggas snitchin', tryna be a good Samaritan
|
| 'Til I leave 'em sleeping with the fishes: Aquarius
|
| Ain’t no easy comparison
|
| I’m a spitter who’s able to spit it exquisite
|
| Givin' niggas the business within this shit
|
| I’m so fuckin ridiculous with this game y’all
|
| Mouthpiece cause massacres, call me chainsaw
|
| Know some niggas that mop shit over 8 balls
|
| Sick and vicious, niggas can’t see me 'cause of they Ray Charles
|
| Yeah, hit the block with the napalm
|
| With the Coathanga Strangla eatin' niggas' brains raw
|
| Yeah, Spydie’s back
|
| And he’s creeping around town like a Siamese cat
|
| I’ma fry these rats
|
| Me NoLove, Bleez and I need Sav (and Skitso)
|
| I got flame mane, throw up the deuce when I gangbang
|
| Rippin' his guts, sippin' a cup of blood up
|
| 'Bout to get in the cut, fucking a nigga nut up
|
| Nigga, I’m serious, fast and furious
|
| Eddy Murph' delirious
|
| Sick in the brain
|
| Spittin' the dangerous flow
|
| Pullin' it out and I aim at his throat, oh
|
| I get pie, apple pie, Chevrolet, sever they
|
| Human anatomy, assault and battery had to be every day
|
| I’m sick, need medicine, Excedrin
|
| I’m ahead of them, I’m a dead man walkin' and it’s evident
|
| Gettin' bread like I’m takin' out the President
|
| It is what I said it is, I’ma be rippin' a nigga up in a head again
|
| Better men the veteran is giving out the medicine and ever since amphetamine
|
| My sentiments exactly, to the backseat with the black heat
|
| Hit 'im in the head then I’m like a track meat 'til a nigga get back, sleep
|
| Exactly, pull a nigga cap to the backseat, get that deep then it’s that eat
|
| I’ma eat people, lethal and he know, a heatseeker
|
| He’s ether, please, give me the guns and them keys
|
| I said give me the guns and them keys
|
| Ey, all my niggas crippin' and gang bang
|
| So if a nigga trippin' then we makin' your brains hang
|
| My niggas never switch and we gon' stick to the same thing
|
| With this bundle of yola that I’m flippin to maintain
|
| And I’m infamous, niggas’ll they get their liver split
|
| I’m militant, I’ve been a Crip, you niggas sound illiterate
|
| Nigga I keep it one hundred like my cigarettes
|
| Articulate, come get a whiff of this nigga, I’m venomous
|
| I get high like a satellite
|
| Niggas know I spit fire, dragon fire
|
| MC’s know I got an appetite
|
| (Dark chest niggas fold when I grab the mic)
|
| Nigga
|
| And I’m sick like venereal
|
| Carry your body to give it a proper burial
|
| Hysteria, I’m spittin' malaria through your stereo
|
| Spit the uzi and ooh wee like my nigga montario
|
| Bitch, I chew beats like full piranhas
|
| Bud Light in my hand, provoking drama
|
| The hoe don’t put the dough in my hand I’ma open-palm her
|
| Super fly, I turn the brokest mama to Pocahontas
|
| I roast any opponent that flows upon us
|
| Will hop out of that focus, unloading llamas
|
| Gun fight like it’s the coke from contra
|
| But I keep a chrome katana
|
| 'Cause when I’ve been smoking ganja I’m flippin them hoes Blanka
|
| We got that mass pass connect
|
| If niggas try to smoke me I got that gas mask effect
|
| My gat’ll blast caps the rent, so if I smash past your symbol
|
| It’s a flash for no reason, you sweat my scrap past the rent
|
| Ain’t no reason at all, the things were involved
|
| The things when they fall
|
| This nigga wouldn’t even swing at a broad
|
| Get seen in a mall, catch you while he leavin' the stall
|
| Right hook, left jab, back hand, Steven Seagal
|
| Chop, chop, to the head, leavin' him red
|
| Red, dead bodies in the bed, cleaver in hand
|
| I’m the kind to fryumup, with Sionel my nuts
|
| I’m nuts, I’m Russian, I’m your highness
|
| I’m the finest minus, yeah I got it covered like Linus
|
| I’m his thymus, I’m his primus, guns are shining
|
| I’m in the lead and I’m bleeding
|
| I prime guts I got sinus problems it’s the |
| Spit like cocaine snorting MDMA, GBC in it
|
| Eatin' human beings like seasoning
|
| Coathanga Strangla: believe in him
|
| You can get cooked with the beavers creep
|
| We even, we even-steven
|
| I’m leavin', No Love bringing me cleaverwhich
|
| Off top on my block niggas sick in the brain
|
| I spit toxic and got ridiculous aim
|
| My whole clique got ridiculous fame, spit syphilis flame
|
| Keep a bitch with ridiculous brain
|
| Cut him into pieces when the trigger releases, my niggas in pieces
|
| I’m squeezin' if you give me a reason
|
| I’m like lieutenant Dan
|
| Give these niggas the business
|
| I cock back, blow your brain all over your tenants
|
| In it to win it, I fight 'til the finish
|
| And have a bitch lick my balls while I’m eating my spinach
|
| Everytime I turn my back somebody biting me in it
|
| I pull her ovaries out and fucking finally end it
|
| Raised up in the gaze like nigga less
|
| Now I’m out, got some niggas on my hit list
|
| Sick shit, 666 shit, this shit I spit, my flip look ridiculous, yeah
|
| And when I’m out in your place
|
| Cock back, pop that and put one in your face
|
| Never catch me slippin' without out one in the waist
|
| One under the pillow case and I keep one in the safe, nigga |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Therapy Session, artist - Brotha Lynch Hung. Album song Coathanga Strangla, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп