
Date of issue: 04.04.2011
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
Therapy Session |
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 |
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Strange Music Box ft. Brotha Lynch Hung, Krizz Kaliko | 2009 |
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Strangeulation II ft. Stevie Stone, Murs, Brotha Lynch Hung | 2014 |
Bloccstyle (feat. Brotha Lynch Hung) ft. Brotha Lynch Hung | 2014 |
Hunger ft. Bishop, Brotha Lynch Hung, feat. | 2012 |
By My Side ft. Warren G., Xzibit, Brotha Lynch Hung | 2014 |
Dogg Market ft. Snoop Dogg | 2005 |
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Gotta Die Soon | 2001 |
Sicc & High | 2001 |
That's How My Trigger Went ft. Brotha Lynch Hung, Sicx | 2020 |
Jackin' 4 Joints ft. Shawna Coles | 1993 |
Had to Gat Ya | 1993 |
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40 Oz & Chronic Dice ft. Brotha Lynch Hung, Foe Loco | 2014 |
Bloccstyle (Deluxe) ft. Brotha Lynch Hung | 2014 |