Evidence 2002 lyrics

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]

Left his blood on da rug
Evidence
Could have been mine and his so i been stressed out eva since
Left him on the concrete with his head split
Found out where i live by this
By this punk b*tch
Knowin its bout to crack like an indo sack im hella f*cked up
So with the heat i commence a peak out the window
Waitin
Run out the indo
Shakin n*ggas like Barry Sanders cuz they weak
They weak
Hella weak

[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
And i'm at my peak when i'm buckin at my enemy
Its like ten of m
Choppin down trees
Twistin up leaves
Bout to make n*ggas bleed
Off the hook like a fish with his lip cut
Get away got away rip gut
Hit em up with enough lead stuff to turn em into a magnet
Body in da dragnet
Keep my di*kies saggin blue flaggin
Body draggin down the street to the end of the creek and seatful you seatin
Creepin through da grass
The gardens they call it
And i be draggin on a garcia vega with the green flava
Neighbahood make a break a duece four
f*ck a ho
A lot a n*ggas dont know
But its lose a ho gain a ho
So bruise a ho whos ta know
Youll need to follow me up
Leave your body in the back of an '84 cut all chopped up
Look through my window at night and you can get glass in your eye
After that your ass gonna die
Screamin and thas no lie
You'll be passin me by
Every night until i come out wit the mini mac
And attack like a pit bull off that dumb sh*t you pulled
[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]

Left his blood on da rug
Evidence
Could have been mine and his so i been stressed out eva since
Left him on the concrete with his head split
Found out where i live by this
By this punk b*tch, knowin its bout to crack like an indo sack im hella f*cked up
So with the heat i commence a peak out the window
Waitin
Run out the indo, shakin n*ggas like barry sanders cuz they weak
They weak, hella weak

[Verse 2: Brotha Lynch Hung]

n*gga i know gotta roll
Like dough
Blow da whole
East side into smitherines
Leavin all the bloody river streams
You n*ggas didn't give a f*ck bout me
So i left you stranded on the titanic
Don't panic
You just need some f*ckin heat
f*ckin wit me
n*gga it's like f*ckin your momma
n*gga it's right in front of your face
n*gga it's drama
Makin your space
Takin your place
n*gga you weak
Weak as f*ck
Mothaf*cka duck
Rap your cut
Tryin to get away from me and my a.p
Let me know when you had enough
Cleanin up these streets gettin rid of these hoes and foes
You can see me in my blue clothes sittin on trus and vogue's
Waitin
See me on the street and you ain't got nothin to say to me
But f*ck you wit two di*ks and a four fifth
Smoke you like a bomb spliff
Suckin blood from my moms tits
Thas how sick
I got that gangsta disease
I be lovin to bring em to they knees
Make me nut like semen
See men like a demon
When i red beam em
Seen em
With the a.p. eatin up human beings
[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]

Left his blood on da rug
Evidence
Could have been mine and his so i been stressed out eva since
Left him on the concrete with his head split
Found out where i live by this
By this punk b*tch, knowin its bout to crack like an indo sack im hella f*cked up
So with the heat i commence a peak out the window
Waitin
Run out the indo, shakin n*ggas like barry sanders cuz they weak
They weak, hella weak

[Verse 3: Brotha Lynch Hung]

Dem n*ggas that want to empty out my chest plate
I hit em wit fury and make em go sickly from the snake bite
A parasite
You ain't tight
Try to f*ck wit a n*gga to get right
End up in the pit bull fight
Trust me
My trusty heat is rusty
Waitin for the scene to get dusty
And all you see is just me
Standin like the last man standin but i ain't no bruce willis
Manic depression
From wrestless
I'm a hog about my juice
Feel it
When i plug you wit the tech
Ghetto chef
Cuttin n*ggas up like david karesh
Welcome to your own death
When the phonk was on your n*gga crept
Like a spida
Denied her of a life
Then nutted all up inside her
I kiss the b*tches
And made em switches
Get you for all your riches
In the back yard im diggin ditches
Tend to act hard and get your lip split
My weapon got the chrome
Dip like scottie pippen
Im dippin from long range
Hit up with part of the game
[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]

Left his blood on da rug
Evidence
Could have been mine and his so i been stressed out eva since
Left him on the concrete with his head split
Found out where i live by this
By this punk b*tch, knowin its bout to crack like an indo sack im hella f*cked up
So with the heat i commence a peak out the window
Waitin
Run out the indo, shakin n*ggas like barry sanders cuz they weak
They weak, hella weak