One A Da Las’ Sicc n*ggaz lyrics

by

Brotha Lynch Hung


[Intro dialogue]

[Hook]
I'm one of the last sicc n*ggas that you heard thus far
You can bump me at your crib or while you off that nitro in your car
But I don't say that to say that I'm a superstar
But if you get high then you can feel me no matter who you are

[Verse 1]
Now I got medieval but then I had to leave them weak n*ggas alone
Situation dirty, squeaky clean, Brotha Lynch Hung
That's right, I gots to have my weed, Lord knows I'm a fiend
This n*gga don't respect me, 45 for the P, n*gga please
I was spendin G's; hold up, n*gga, freeze
Come up off that weed 'cause you done f*cked around and went up on me
I want the whole Ziploc full of shamrock
And if you're reachin in your pocket
I'ma heat the heat and leave you in a meat locker
Now that's my knocka, he's to the side with the mask on
I'ma give you 15 percent, so if you need to, get yo' blast on
And that's a fat zone that's a good start start
You can it sacc and or serve it (or what?) take it to the heart heart
I'm a lil' n*gga (thinkin' what?) thinkin' big
Cut off your nuts and leave you screamin' like a starved pig
Hold you hostage in your crib
And yo, planned the whole situation out, so I got first dibs
Now, bigger than life is how I'm comin' out
Rigorous and vigorous (what you mean?), you n*ggas know what I'm talkin' 'bout
I want cheese and lettuce in my wallet so fetish
And I wanna break through like Jerome Bettis, pro status
All this time I got ryhme on my mind every dime
I spend it on some weed and some studio time
Drink O-E out the mickeys big mouth
My point is I be in the cut trying to keep these snakes out my house
[Interlude: Brotha Lynch Hung talking]
You know I push, I push play on brain one day
And it played back some sh*t
Some sh*t containing (some sh*t containing) snakes (snakes)
I mean, talk to me (serpents)

[Hook]
I'm one of the last sicc n*ggas that you heard thus far
You can bump me at your crib or while you off that nitro in your car
But I don't say that to say that I'm a superstar
But if you get high then you can feel me no matter who you are

[Verse 2]
n*gga now I sh*t lyrics but I can't use 'em
Have your son trippin', Brotha Lynch Hung loopin' (loopin')
They be off that bottle talkin' 'bout "Brotha Lynch be talkin' 'bout
Sicc sh*t, I heard he ate his mama out"
Now how this motherf*cker gone write some sh*t
'Bout the Brotha Lynch Hung, 'cause he killin' in his song
He say (what?), "That n*gga sh*t tight, but he ain't sh*t"
He say (what?), "God is my witness, I heard he f*ck them b*tches"
Which is suppose to be wrong criticizin' my love song
You get the rope, f*ckin' with the Brotha Lynch Hung
Wrong information make intimidation
Catch you on your weed high (catch you on your weed high)
I tore you up like a pitch bend
Feelin' di*k hard, well you better get your b*tch then, it gets thin
And I'm off this Black & Mild sh*t
Tall Cann told me it's smooth and now I'm buyin' boxes of it
Tryin' to relax and deal with these taxes (why?)
'Cause they be at my checks wit them axes
Twenty saccs is in the back seat, I'm license-less
Hope motherf*ckin' baby's mama ain't no shiesty b*tch
She want her publishing, a'ight, that's cool
She want some other sh*t, get off the hydro tube
n*ggas always think I talk about'em because I talk sh*t
My worst nightmare was killin' my b*tch for tryin' to get my grits
I'm like Mark Spitz, I swim a channel for my sh*t
And watch your heart split, I'm doing damage to your b*tch
(Doing damage to yo' beyotch) And while your heart switch
You better remember where you came from, b*tch
[Outro dialogue]
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