Had 2 Gat Ya lyrics

by

Brotha Lynch Hung


[Brotha Lynch Hung]
I'mma let it be known
That I'm with the foe so n*gga you know it's on
Oil my chrome cause I got murder in my blood and in my chromosone
For the fact that I take none, pack a gun in my dang-a-lang
That n*gga that n*gga that gang bang no never that n*gga that claim
Yeah, I'm a n*gga eating Jesus brains
I got the evil in my muthaf*ckin back and in my muthaf*ckin veins
Wearing my black to creep
Momma told a muthaf*cka he'd be dead in a week
So n*gga what? load me like a tre five sev
Pass the dank takin dead body's to the blood bank
And while I hook em up proper
I got them swallowing in my loaded heart stopper
POP! POP! the trigga fiend, the n*ggas spleen
Plus the barrel on my muthaf*ckin nine, lookin plus
That n*gga that n*gga that runs them mothaf*ckas back
I got you fiendin for a n*gga like you fiend for crack
Cause its like that (mo wiggita then a n*gga get might packed???)
Cause in the 4 you know never know you better gat right back
So n*ggas know us brothas can't go out like that
Sellin my momma the crack, watch yo back cause(You know I had to gat ya)

Chorus: repeat 4X

(Yeah, you know I had to gat ya)
(187 on a) (n*gga)
[BLH]
Yeah, picture your death
That n*gga that siccness
Figure to sick this, foo
That n*gga that rips
The wickedest look at that n*gga that siccness drops
And as my trigga goes Pop! Pop! Pop!
That n*ggas be ducking from the buck shot
See, f*ck it when the gat drops, you know its in a hoes cot
So there it goes, not the average n*gga
The baby killa, the rabies dealer
Dealin that n*gga maybe killin that n*gga that smooth way
That mothaf*ckas ain't sh*t to me
White n*gga, black trigga cracks every mothaf*ckas back
Way in the day, fools used to get they squabs on
The Blood gang, Deuce-Nine, Creek Mobb zone
Runnin a mothaf*cka like a pit bull, loadin up that clip tool
But stealin on muthaf*ckas like a clepto
Let no, other muthaf*ckas raid the hood
Half the mothaf*ckas smokin n*ggas like wood
Got locked up with they c*ck up, some other n*ggas as*h*le
But at least my n*ggas had enough heart to blast though
Now the deuce ain't deep like 86
I'm solo, might as well pin me on a crucifix
The deuce-fo' age, baby killin athiest
For the funk right back, cause (You know I had to gat ya)
Chorus

[BLH]
Same ol fool, that n*gga deep load, what up
Ain't no doubt who runs the muthaf*cka
Cause every cut I drop is like a muthaf*ckin main course
Hella n*ggas eat that's why I make so many corpse
Cause when they hear that n*gga that n*gga that siccness drop
My nine millimeter goes Pop!
My sign going to creep them
Nightmare creeper millimeter meter
Lock up, main corpse, spirit your brain
Got n*ggas killin n*ggas, just because I'm rappin insane
Something like a Manson mind, my n*gga Triple Sicx
(i got em doing a devil dance of mine)
Leavin em only one chance to die and n*ggas wanna used a Glock
n*ggas wanna go to heaven but don't want to get shot down
Yeah, with my .38 snub nose
I got n*ggas crawlin to me tryin to pack me for the hella holes
Lettin loose like Antonio Montana
With a Uzi and I'm kickin em with a 12 gauge Moss'
And I'm off, psycho like I'm Michael Myers part six
Brotha Lynch, rippin his arms off up the crucifix
And when I grab my 9 millimeter gun, puttin' it to your back
'Cause I don't know how to act so (You know I had 2 Gat Ya)
Chorus 2X

(You Know I had 2 Gat Ya)
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