Yeah, the Baby Killa's back up in this m*********...
Straight from tha grave, it gets so deep right under the Garden
Blocc...
Oh, me? Ya can just call me Manson...Yeah, we met before...
But ya forget that I ain't gonna die so I'm back up this m*********...
So peep the m**********' words from the dead man, yeah...
[Brotha Lynch Hung]
And when I pack me a gun and, oh, when I was young
I dreamed of feedin' them n***** n***** with a suflet a la gun
m********** get hung, my bullet weights a ton
The Garden Blocc Don, the valley of the slum
Tha cannibalistic n**** that got that 9 millimeter gun
That n**** that n**** that got them m********** on the run
They thought that I was done but Lynch is not the one
To go out from a gunshot wound, n****, I'm not done that soon
b******, they come but nut like the rest, caught one in the chest
Shoulda wear a vest and, oh, what a b***** mess
Puffin' off the cess, dealin' with the stress, killin' off the less...
Fortunate but they trip when my nine gets sick
Them n***** either die or stays back off my d***
Cause I'm that n**** they call Lynch, I got'em n***** fiendin' for my
s***
I empty clips, drinkin', f*****' with tha splift
And it's the n**** that kill for reason, it's the Season Of The Sicc
That's why I got the urge to shoot that p**** c***
And kill that infint, so what is my intent?
To show m********** that livin' life ain't s***
I guess it gets real sick and eatin' b***** c***, the baby killa s***
Put'em in a grave with an empty 40 ounce bottle and won't even trip
Cause livin' with tha Tripple-Six
Ya learn to f*** devil in his mouth and eat the s*** out of his b****
And I admit: my brain is kinda sick
But now I'm like J. Dahmer, I'm chewin' up all the evidence
I killed to cure my fit, the human meat fix
Bitin' to the skin rips, that sick n****, so sick
Livin' dead ever since...
[Grisly voice]
Yeah, do ya wanna know what that Siccness is?
That Siccness is when ya hug ya mama and ya d*** that w****...
All ya do is walkin' with ya baby's mama and she's suckin' ya sons
d***...
That's the m**********' Siccness...
So, ya m********** don't ya forget that s***...
And don't forget where the Sicc came from...
That n**** Lynch...
[Brotha Lynch Hung]
I take my mouth off up that cog and trip
Cause eatin' dead p**** c*** I make ya sick
But it's the Season so my reason is legit
I'm havin' fits, I dreamed of eatin' b***** p**** c***'s since I was
six
I fiend for a dead p**** on d***, I gotta skits
Meanin' I don't give a s*** about ya biyatch
That n**** that's from tha Blocc, killin' up tha cog, so, n****,
shii-it
Baby barbeque ribs and guts and, ah, don't let me get too deep
Fryin' baby nuts, s**** get ate out alike, dank is what crooked teeth
heard
I pull the Tampax-string out and straight put in work
And puttin' work without that sick, so page a n**** quick
So I can sell ya some of this s*** and have ya murderin' ya biyatch
Cause me and Tripple-Six grew up f*****' b****** up the gut
With tha 9-millimater clip, Season Of The Sicc, picture this:
p**** meat ripped in pan full of nuts and guts and entrails s***
I guess they chewin' on tha c***, the sick, they just don't understand
it
it's so outlandish, chewin' n**** nuts to cure my fit
The human meat fix, bitin' to the skin rips, that sick n****, so sick
Livin' dead ever since
Straight from tha grave, it gets so deep right under the Garden
Blocc...
Oh, me? Ya can just call me Manson...Yeah, we met before...
But ya forget that I ain't gonna die so I'm back up this m*********...
So peep the m**********' words from the dead man, yeah...
[Brotha Lynch Hung]
And when I pack me a gun and, oh, when I was young
I dreamed of feedin' them n***** n***** with a suflet a la gun
m********** get hung, my bullet weights a ton
The Garden Blocc Don, the valley of the slum
Tha cannibalistic n**** that got that 9 millimeter gun
That n**** that n**** that got them m********** on the run
They thought that I was done but Lynch is not the one
To go out from a gunshot wound, n****, I'm not done that soon
b******, they come but nut like the rest, caught one in the chest
Shoulda wear a vest and, oh, what a b***** mess
Puffin' off the cess, dealin' with the stress, killin' off the less...
Fortunate but they trip when my nine gets sick
Them n***** either die or stays back off my d***
Cause I'm that n**** they call Lynch, I got'em n***** fiendin' for my
s***
I empty clips, drinkin', f*****' with tha splift
And it's the n**** that kill for reason, it's the Season Of The Sicc
That's why I got the urge to shoot that p**** c***
And kill that infint, so what is my intent?
To show m********** that livin' life ain't s***
I guess it gets real sick and eatin' b***** c***, the baby killa s***
Put'em in a grave with an empty 40 ounce bottle and won't even trip
Cause livin' with tha Tripple-Six
Ya learn to f*** devil in his mouth and eat the s*** out of his b****
And I admit: my brain is kinda sick
But now I'm like J. Dahmer, I'm chewin' up all the evidence
I killed to cure my fit, the human meat fix
Bitin' to the skin rips, that sick n****, so sick
Livin' dead ever since...
[Grisly voice]
Yeah, do ya wanna know what that Siccness is?
That Siccness is when ya hug ya mama and ya d*** that w****...
All ya do is walkin' with ya baby's mama and she's suckin' ya sons
d***...
That's the m**********' Siccness...
So, ya m********** don't ya forget that s***...
And don't forget where the Sicc came from...
That n**** Lynch...
[Brotha Lynch Hung]
I take my mouth off up that cog and trip
Cause eatin' dead p**** c*** I make ya sick
But it's the Season so my reason is legit
I'm havin' fits, I dreamed of eatin' b***** p**** c***'s since I was
six
I fiend for a dead p**** on d***, I gotta skits
Meanin' I don't give a s*** about ya biyatch
That n**** that's from tha Blocc, killin' up tha cog, so, n****,
shii-it
Baby barbeque ribs and guts and, ah, don't let me get too deep
Fryin' baby nuts, s**** get ate out alike, dank is what crooked teeth
heard
I pull the Tampax-string out and straight put in work
And puttin' work without that sick, so page a n**** quick
So I can sell ya some of this s*** and have ya murderin' ya biyatch
Cause me and Tripple-Six grew up f*****' b****** up the gut
With tha 9-millimater clip, Season Of The Sicc, picture this:
p**** meat ripped in pan full of nuts and guts and entrails s***
I guess they chewin' on tha c***, the sick, they just don't understand
it
it's so outlandish, chewin' n**** nuts to cure my fit
The human meat fix, bitin' to the skin rips, that sick n****, so sick
Livin' dead ever since