Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung & Yukmouth & C.O.S. (USA)
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung & Luni Coleone
Brotha Lynch Hung & C.O.S. (USA)
Brotha Lynch Hung & D-Dubb
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung &
Brotha Lynch Hung & Tall Can & C.O.S. (USA)
Brotha Lynch Hung & Zigg Zagg
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung & Crookwood
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung & Tall Can & Low Down & b-flat & JV & D-Dubb & Zagg & C.O.S. (USA) & Phonk Beta & Calico & E-Moe & Loki (USA) & Crookwood
[Intro: Brotha Lynch Hung]
Calling all Siccmade riders
Usual suspects
Report to the mic room
Let's do it like this
[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
All it took is a half teaspoon of salt, half teaspoon of baking soda
Bitch ass nigga, move out the way, we taking over
Like Takeover Entertainment
Matter of fact, my niggas in the house, we 'bout to tell you how the game went
But if you would give me about thirty more seconds, so I could touch niggas like greeting cards
I'm a lethal weapon and I'ma creep with weapons like Saving Private Ryan
Niggas'll have to recognize, if they don't they probably lying
They got too much pride, trying to get twisted up like greenery
Socking niggas up in the crowd like bing bing bing-bing bing bing bing
It's like that, nigga, real gats
And I got that all-black thing in the back that peels caps
And I'm still that nigga in black like Anerae
Fifty sack of bomb a day and it's all to the face, nigga
Nobody, no case, nigga, quick to replace niggas
Spit hot heaters all at your face, nigga, clips split them
[Verse 2: E-Moe]
I'm the E-dash-M-O-E, don't nobody know me
I can run in their house and kill their whole family
But uh... I refuse to lose, paying my dues, singing ghetto blues
Counting my twos and fews, knocking out fools and crews
Because if they knew I ever had it, shoot me up with automatics
We mob deep like Havoc and Prodigy, how stupid you got to be
Fucking with the best, represent the West Coast
I'm tryna be cool before I hit you in the nose
Case closed and red roses, split your head like Moses
You know this, I keep a strap in my lap when I'm at a show, bitch
I take a ho in the back and let her know, trick
This be the city of Sac, all the way to the "O", bitch
We out here taking it back, you heard that, motherfucker
You ain't fucking with no suckers
Ain't nobody out here doing this can touch us
[Verse 3: Loki]
Hotel, motel, Holiday Inn
Murder for wholesale, [?], alibi's trump-tight
Taking bodies to the dump site
What the fuck happen you when don't come right
Got the bitches squared up in my gun sight
See, what I do is number one: premeditate
Number two: infiltrate, do my dirt, then finally
Number three: make my escape and vacate to where my alibi waits
With a smile on the face and panties low on her waist
Not your usual, not your average savage
Crossing state lines with munitions in my baggage
Cabbage, shit, got to get it
But now, the reality is all about how to get away with it
[Verse 4: Zagg]
Feel my fire, the heat I spit lets you exhibit
Make your heart stop a minute, thirty seconds, bitch nigga shit
I manifest, flip it, make it spill like liquid
First Siccmade chick hit with a bit of the siccness
Wicked witch of the West Coast style, look at me now
Sacramento, Cali, check us deep in the South
The wax melted, burn you up like rubber, dub you another
Witness the bad bitch gut check you in trouble
I make G's, believe that
Smoke fat bomb weed after weed sack
Take cheese, I'm going to need that
Come with me to the 5150, it get tricky
[?] see me be the most sneaky, freaky mind, sickly
Put it all on wood, you wish you could but you can't fuck with this
Can't touch my shit, you [?]
Battle the cats, I like getting the practice
Mind strong, I rhyme long, I bust fastest
[Verse 5: Phonk Beta]
I got the toolie that make you ashy
Bet you didn't know I keep two clips with my Smitty
Never know what you're facing, just running and pacing
It's not good to be chasing
Me? I can't run real fast, I'm after the cash
Especially when I blast that ass, so keep that ass
Out of them dark streets, 'cause I possess the heat
That puts you under a sheet, don't sweat the technique
I'll leave you bloody on the beat, just got into half bit into like a peach
I'ma start touching niggas up just like paint
Just because I never killed nobody doesn't mean that I can't
Now walk the plank, while I'm just puffing on dank
You bitch-ass nigga, now what the fuck you think?
They call me the day walker, AK Phonk Beta
So, open up your mouth while I ejaculate it
[Verse 6: COS]
Fuck a bitch, I'll put your ass on the release list
Siccmade starter got no room for your three cents
And rumors around the precinct have it that you're a gossiper
Talk show host like Ricki Lake and that's a problem, sir
I flip cakes like Betty Crocker, Mr. Officer
So, if he tell you what I be doing, I gots to pop him, sir
That's how the game go, no advance, no halos
Who am I to say so but check out my whole case load
Been dealing with drama since mama, she let her babe go
And never looked back, so I learned to cook crack to make dough
Break hoes like fake hoes when I run in their house
Mask down, pistol out, nigga, give me your house, give me your spouse
I'll pop her ass in the head so quick won't no blood even spill on her blouse
Just sit on the couch, give me the safe or I'll spit in your mouth
Find it myself, fill the bag then I'm out, nigga
[Verse 7: Calico]
You ever wondered what it sounds like when dirt's raining on the casket?
I'ma hit you, split you wide open with the automatic
I'll let you feel the [?] frantic
Fuck around and seat that ass next to the Titanic
Don't panic, nigga, 'cause it was you kicking up all the dust on your internet chat line
We'll take your face and break your guts and leave your killer hard to find
All my Siccmade niggas are devil blind
Go cross the line, try to take the shine
I fucking dare you
I'll let my twin cal or this .45 smell you all over the concrete
The shit you wolfing off is deep 'cause a nigga like me never sleep
A bitch-ass nigga [?], wrap them rivals heads in plastic
Run up in their house and ransack it
Ain't gonna be another [?] in this game
Stay smoke a nigga out and let my nigga Manson live through my name
Calico, eternal flames
[Verse 8: Crookwood]
I'm in position, ready, set, here we go on three
I'm crawling through the doggy door 'bout to vanish these fleas
A few pops behind the ear is all it takes (then what?)
Then you're leaking like a drippy faucet, bleeding like grapes
We're hitting seven points of entry at the same damn time
Plus my boy been in your pantry since a quarter to nine
The toys been cocked and ready since you crossed that line
We snatch your shit up like greedy kids, "That's mine, that's mine!"
Twitchy trigger fingers, 'bout to itch them and blast
Practice tactical assaults in all black like the TASK
Twist your neck until we hear your upper vertebrae snap
Operating with a face mask and a surgery cap
You're flipping birds in your raps, we're hitting curbs in the 'Lacs
Spitting tell it like it is, you're obscuring the facts
And the fact is it's beddy-bye time, so nighty-night
Drive a motherfucking stake through your heart like Fright Night
[Verse 9: Tall Cann G]
Who want some? Tell them niggas come and get it
I make sure that they coffin is custom fitted
The way that I rip shit put these niggas to rest
So walk around the city with a "S" on my chest
Unusual suspect, ready to jump out the bushes
And leave a knife in a nigga neck, slit a nigga throat
Kill that nigga and his ho, fuck a rap and fuck this scrap
And I create another bloody glove, nigga, like OJ
[Verse 10: D-Dubb]
Niggas bend blocks, send shots, put big holes in your body
You ready to go all out? Keep your doors locked
.44 cocked, ready or not
Invest in noodles that make things happen
Would you believe this nigga tried to cross me
So, I had to off him, leave him like a puzzle
All in his muzzle backing it up with some muscles
Came in this game with a def jam, like Russell
Serious, niggas tried to step but your mouth ain't no bicep
Seen so many niggas try to side step
But the niggas couldn't get over 'cause the niggas moving like a 16-wheel truck
21st Street rider, for real and I know what's up
On them switching-lane ass niggas, so watch where you step, nigga
'Cause when your shit goes down in flames, man your ass [?]
Them firestarters done came, them daredevil's ain't up on my level
The way I push the pedal, they get smashed on by King Kong in this concrete jungle
Nigga, stop swinging on Siccmade dick
Stick him with a full clip, you know where I be
When Siccmade niggas about to break the bank for about seven figures
With more heat and metal arms under my sleeve
About four or three, now they know this nigga [?]
[Verse 11]
I stay sticking and moving, moving and sticking
Motivation with improvements, my blueprints is ruthless
It's useless, with two clips, putting holes in you like toothpicks
Walking straight at the end, [?]
Cutthroats and dividends
[?] flipping, ripping and spitting
Like some staples up in your facial
Giving you a fucking faceful, I was faithful
You was acting ungrateful and hateful, so, I'm about to be playful with you
Switching my bishop like Bishop
You think I'm [?] then I'm flipping it like a pimp did in 1960
Usual suspects so miss me
Usual suspects so miss me
[Verse 12]
Straight shitting on niggas, popping clips and pulling triggers
Tell me nothing off the liquor, now how you figure you're the bigger rigger
Your face will stick [?]
You better stay cold, nigga 'fore I fill hollow holes in you
Killer California, another one on the bus
Come into your home and start [?] until you're both fucked
The [?], yo, what's up, mama raised no punk
You want to stomp and just buck, I gives a fuck
Smoked the face off the blunt, up in the cut and bending corners
Tucked [?]
Always talking that stuff, you full of powder, you puff
Hit your turf hella tough and blow your whole fucking hood up
[Verse 13]
Yeah, now I'm spitting knots with the hit rock
Siccmade shit's hot, big Glock shoot shots
All the way to the tip-top, see me coming for you, ready or not
So if I see you on the southside and a trick slipping, I'm grabbing the Glock
See a bitch-made nigga like you should [?]
Because you don't know enough about the man with the [?] hand to put your ass in the box
Now what you got?
Not a damn thing and you can't hang with the realer man
So it's best to get your own thing before I make you rope hang, nigga
Usual Suspects was written by Brotha Lynch Hung & Phonk Beta & Loki (USA) & Tall Can & C.O.S. (USA) & E-Moe & Calico & Crookwood & Zagg & b-flat & Low Down & D-Dubb & JV & DJ Epik.
Usual Suspects was produced by DJ Epik.
Brotha Lynch Hung released Usual Suspects on Tue Jun 10 2003.