ID Channel lyrics

by

Brotha Lynch Hung


[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
Gun on the panel by my dark blue flannel
n*ggas love pushin' my buttons like the dark keys on the piano
All you seen was a shadow then everything turned black though
Shootin' Kevin Durant for the green like Seattle's team
I gain steam like an engine, vroom, vroom
Gotta get to chickens and tap in with Ren, Ren
I get 'em off quicker than Deion
Turn a n*gga to a ghost then I get him bleeding neon
'Cause we on some northern killer Cali sh*t
Leave your brain in an alley split
I'm off the Maui Wowie sh*t, now you can see how we sit
Better get the baby wipes, diapers and the baby powder
I use silencers, other guns - they be louder
But it's cool though, n*ggas biting like cujo
n*ggas talking 'bout this the new coast
Yeah right, I keep it airtight
Gun on the panel, pay your cable bill 'cause it's the ID channel

[Hook]
Guns, knives, duct tape, scandal
Don't get caught on the ID channel
Murder, mayhem, bud, drugs
You can end up on the ID channel
Guns, knives, duct tape, scandal
Don't get caught on the ID channel
You can end up on the ID channel
[Verse 2: Ren Da Heatmonsta]
Call this an unsolved murder case 'cause when I killed this b*tch
Sucka, they couldn't find a trace, I hid in the bushes
To see if he was home, I did the sh*t smooth
Knock his noodle out his dome, pop, pop, pop
Who is it? Soul killer iller, death is gonna overcome you on the realer
I didn't wanna do it but I'm a murderous cap pilla
Ran through the spot, took the gats and the scrilla
Like I ain't even tripping, it's just another killin'
Call me a murderer, the muthaf*ckin' mud villain
I leave stains, hit 'em in the arm for the extra pain
Cut his ass up with a shank then a hot one to the brain
He's dead, laying in the pool of red with some slugs to the head
I'm a smooth killer, do the job then fled
The muthaf*ckin' murder scene, I even called the pigs
Come and get this dead muthaf*cka that I did

[Hook]
Guns, knives, duct tape, scandal
Don't get caught on the ID channel
Murder, mayhem, bud, drugs
You can end up on the ID channel
Guns, knives, duct tape, scandal
Don't get caught on the ID channel
You can end up on the ID channel
[Verse 3: Ren Da Heatmonsta]
Allow me to f*ck with your mind
You want that murder sh*t, the soul of sin will tear out your spine
Muthaf*cka, put you in a barbed wire chokehold
Nine milli to the back of the dome, now watch the head explode
Light 'em up like Lite-Brite, better yet - a prayer candle
Now your ass is famous, got your own show on the ID channel
Dismembered like Dexter did it, 187 - anyone can get it
They come up shorter than a muthaf*ckin' midget
Stick it to the chest, wrapped in plastic, it's drastic
Tripping off mushrooms and an eye drop of acid
And disappear like magic, vanish, unsolved case
Even though I left his brainium all over the place
Fill 'em up with embalming fluid, it's f*cked up, but I gotta do it
Messy job, but I'm used to it, watching the tube glued to it
Another episode - Investigation Discovery
And you can be the next muthaf*cka dead in front of me

[Hook]
Guns, knives, duct tape, scandal
Don't get caught on the ID channel
Murder, mayhem, bud, drugs
You can end up on the ID channel
Guns, knives, duct tape, scandal
Don't get caught on the ID channel
You can end up on the ID channel
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