Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung & & First Degree & E-40
Brotha Lynch Hung & & Polo & First Degree
Brotha Lynch Hung & D-Dubb & Phonk Beta
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung & D-Dubb & Loki (USA)
Brotha Lynch Hung &
Brotha Lynch Hung & D-Dubb
Brotha Lynch Hung & Zagg & Phonk Beta
Brotha Lynch Hung & Ice-T & First Degree
(First Degree):
The evil that men do got me servin' heaters
Morphin' them body bleeders into believers
Had these bitches bringin' me cleavage and cannibis-sativa
Big leaguers, wide receivers, we quivers off malt liters
So lead us to the cheap shit, got my heat close so I could reach it
Need it in the jungle, humble man gone too soon, wasn't ready for the rumble
So I disperse my seasoning, pleasing when I get to reasoning
Like soul cleaner, when the - when the D.E. get to heatin' up?
Fuck, fuck, another fuck, fuck the bitch in their stuff
Fuck till they brains stuck, then change they demeanor
After sticking their vagina
Turn a perfect stranger into my part time, into my personal rump ranger
Workin' the night shift, temporary employment, ya mind says fight it
But emotions is delighted
And thats what runs you sensitive bitches and niggas get ran for a loop
My heat is a muthafucka, First Degree
Oh First Degree South bound of the city
I'm sittin' high lookin' down next up to the climax
Stayin' deliciously loaded with my fry, Mr. Hot burnin' flesh
I got that THC marinatin' in my chest, I stays digressed
So I'm approachin' this life shit, and heatin' it beautiful
I'ma tokin' this wide stick, hittin' plentiful
Huh, huh, huh, tryna make my dollar
(Polo):
I got somethin' for your mask
This shit here is hard to swallow
Could be hazardous to your health
Full equipped to leave your insides hollow
Ziplock lips and listen
I'm on a mission, switchin' positions
In case of accidental consumption
Dilute with 2 cups of milk and contact your physician
Heated and hanged, who am I? Trigger Man, suspect number one
I let loose, do not induce vomiting, or you throwing up your lung
Dialing 9-1-1, it's flammable, uncontainable
You die by the superfly when I spy, flip and grip, changeable
Specially formulated to have all costs regulated
And also the ones that participated in playing bitch games
And plain playa hatin'
5 foot 6", sick hogg and all about mines
Dead bodies don't talk, yellow tape and chalk
So if you fall short....flatline
Nigga, when you near give me adequate ventilation
Avoid physical contact and inhalation
Facial premeditation can lead to skin and eye irritation
Does that exlude a bitch, Boot town boot up, shoot up shit
Never water based, straight laced to your face
With no nurse or first aid chase, no after taste
Now brace yourself for the hand that rocks the cradle
Negative conversations lead to sticky situations that sometimes turn fatal
Hogg translation: ou-yay uck-fay with this heated association illustration
Picture yourself in a body bag wearin' them closed casket decorations
I got a house full of heaters and liters of gas to light up that ass and it's mandatory
I'm too short for long conversation, no pre-animation, no nuts, no glory, no witness, no story
Makin' derogatory statements with my stainless
Slugs with names signed in blood individually stuffed up the anus
Dangerous, aimin' for your body
Almost definitely pull that for hand to hand combat karate
It's some a that southern young fool
(P-Folk):
Four-way stop, I look in the rearview mirror
Chevy Astro van's suspicious
Usin' my brain, aware of the game
Suspects might be thinkin' I'm fakin'
It's a habit to be caught with and without
Reachin' up under my seat to grab my piece
And the chamber, engage the round
Turn a beat down, put it in first gear, slow pace
Thinkin' that I might be paranoid
Effects from the filthy re-chronic blunt that I just smoked with my boys
Sped ahead, hogg check, all red til' I'm dead
And I'll be damned if these niggas try to make me, P-Folk, break bread
I'm tied up to it, I'm dread
Like it said 'you live by the sword, you die by the sword'
These niggas not knowin' they on a one way ticket home to the Lord
Got hordes of bullets to spray me up and out the situation
And since it's a jack move, my objective is I gotta take 'em
Roll 'em outta the main street
I don't want them thinkin' they been detected all up in my section
Make a left down Elkhorn, toward northern direction
Viewer discretion is advised, preparation for a justified homicide
These niggas know they ain't no friend of mine, (check they self)
Caught up at a red light
Grippin' this trilli, thug from Highlands with nuthin' to prove
Come here ruge, enemies hoppin' up out the low, P-Folks refuse to lose
Split ones wig with the Sig, evidently he didn't see my third eye
The second suspect tried to hit P-Folk from the blind side
Exchangin' round for round, lit like a match, the lead sped out the strap
One enemy down, two enemies gone, hollow point penetration to the back
The villain defeated, the driver retreated and his partna leaded
Jack got cracked in the mask, for sho' I'm heated
(Lynch):
They told me to get my heat, so I got mine
Them muthafuckas done made they hit
Now we only got the Mini-MAC in the trunk, sawed off pump and the .45th
But I'm confident that we handle funk like muthafuckin' g's
So all you bitches and snitches get ditches when my trigger finger itches, it's viscous
For some reason I'm still in that season
All them other muthafuckas done left, smother muthafuckas to death
Other muthafuckas done slept long
Hit off the kryptonite and get gone
Hit 'em up two in the dome, visit your funeral home alone
Had love for them once when and then shit got grim
Killin' me softly, it's costly, check the chin, hit the Henn and then bend
One dial 1-800 Old Gold
And you picture me surrounded by fifty pounds of brown meat
Grade A beef, it ain't cheap
I got that shit that'll make them weak minds upchuck
Upchuck, your guts cut and I'll have your nuts, wassup?
You was locked down, so I fucked your bitch
Gave you that syphilis dick, looped the music, MadeSicc, throat slit
Trump tight murder on sight, split ya dome, hit ya home at night
Move in the dark with infrared light
You die, then I'ma do your wife
I'ma leave you hangin' on your doorstep
Have your wife ass butt naked, razor blade razed from the ass to the neck
Heataz was written by Brotha Lynch Hung & Polo & First Degree.
Heataz was produced by Phonk Beta.
Brotha Lynch Hung released Heataz on Tue Sep 16 1997.