Siccmade lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, the baby killer's back up in this motherf*cker
Straight from the grave
The grave dug so deep right down to the Garden Blocc
Oh, me? You can just call me Manson
Yeah, we met before
But you know devils don't die, so I'm back up in this motherf*cker
So peep the motherf*ckin' words from a dead man
Yeah

[Verse 1]
And when I pack me a gun, and, oh, when I was young
I dreamt of feedin' them n*ggas up, n*gga nuts, soufflé a la tongue
Motherf*ckers get hung, my bullet weighs a ton
The Garden Blocc don, the valley of the slum
That cannibalistic n*gga that got that nine millimeter gun
That n*gga, that n*gga that got them motherf*ckers on the run
They thought that I was done, but Lynch is not the one
To go out from a gunshot wound, n*gga, I'm not done that soon
b*tches they c*m, but nut just like the rest
Caught one in the chest, should've wore a vest
And, oh, what a bloody mess, puffin' off the sess
Dealin' with the stress, killin' off the less
Fortunate, but they trip when my nine gets sick
Them n*ggas either die, or stay stuck on my di*k
'Cause I'm that n*gga that they call Lynch
I got them n*ggas fiendin' for my sh*t
I empty clips, drink and f*ck with that spliff
Then it's that n*gga that kill for the reason it's the season of the sick
That's why I got the urge to shoot that pus*y clit
And kill off that infant, so what is my intent?
To show them motherf*ckers livin' life ain't sh*t
I gets to gettin' real sick and eatin' bloody clit, the baby killer sh*t
Put 'em in a grave in a empty forty ounce bottle and don't leave a drip
'Cause livin' with that triple six
You learn to f*ck the devil in his mouth and eat the sh*t out of his b*tch
And I admit, my brain is kinda sick
But now I'm like J. Dahmer, I'm chewin' up all the evidence
And I kill to cure my fit, the human meat fix
Bitin' 'til the skin rips, that sick n*gga, so sick
Livin' dead ever since
[Interlude]
Yeah, y'all wanna know what the sickness is?
The sickness is when you hug your mama and your di*k get hard
Or when you walk in on your baby's mama and she suckin' your son's di*k
That's the motherf*ckin' sickness
So y'all motherf*ckers don't forget that sh*t
And don't forget where the sh*t came from, that n*gga Lynch

[Verse 2]
I take my mouth up out that c*ck and trip 'cause eatin' dead pus*y clit-
'll make ya sick, but it's that season so my reason is legit
I'm havin' fits, I dream of eatin' bloody pus*y clit since I was six
I fiend for dead pus*y on di*k
I got the schiz', meanin' I don't give a sh*t about your b*tch
That n*gga that's from that Blocc, killin' up that c*ck, so, n*gga, sh*t
Baby barbecue ribs and guts, and, uh
Don't let me get to deep-fryin' baby nuts
sl*ts get ate out like a date, these crooked teeth hurt
I pull that Tampax string out and straight put in work
It wouldn't work without that sick, so page a n*gga quick
So I can serve you some of that sh*t and have you murderin' your b*tch
'Cause me and Triple Sicx
Grew up f*ckin' b*tches up the gut with that nine millimeter clip
Season of the sick, picture this, pus*y meat ripped in a pan
Full of n*gga nuts and guts and intestines and sh*t
I gets to chewin' on that clit, the sick
They just can't understand it, it's so outlandish
Chewin' them n*gga nuts up to cure my fit
The human meat fix
Bitin' 'til the skin rips, that sick n*gga, so sick
Livin' dead ever since