Season Of Da Sicc Lyrics - Brotha Lynch Hung

Hit the dank and took my glock off lock, and off 

To the 21st blocc, I'm rollin in a drop top 

Three for zero that black criminal mac mac nigga 

That pap! pap! me humming a couple of rounds 

And while I test him, hey fuck a Smith & Wesson 

I got my, nine at my chest and I got my dime bag 

Of stress weed, a 40 oz. of OE and I'm creepin 

Up on some niggas in a mob and a nigga claimin OG, 

Pap! hit him in that dome and it was that nigga's worst 

Put him on the ground wit a brain, full o' dem nine slugs 

So wrap that nigga up, put him in a hearse 

And I'm hittin 50, right around that curb, tight, 

Rollin up in a 64, 4 doors sideways to the next light (YOU KNOW) 

An I hit that corner of 24 street, some nigga mean mugging 

Lynch, and I pop in a clip and I'm not finna get got, 

I'ma shoot before I'm shot for the fact I'm B-U-Double D-E-D 

I'm reaching up in my glove box, for the welfare weed 

That's fillin a nigga's siccness so witness dead bodies 

In an, oldsmobile, up on the curb and while I'm skirtin 

Pass the view wit an empty 9 and some bourbon (riiight) 

I just adjust to the fact that niggas aint got no hope 

I'm fillin em up with 16s, and letting em know 

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It's either that die, or that sickness, and it's the nigga that nigga that 

One you come see, with that 9 millimeter meter watch them 9 millimeter meat 

Wikkihdie come, Wikkihtah come, Wikkihtah come, Wikkihtah E-drop, styling, 

If It don't get you with me nina then me, use 3, 18's, pop nigga not mind not know 

finned to do Without them gun shell, firing, for* them don't know me when me high off them doja* killa weed, me take-a me nine millimeter nine, And me blast them, enemies for den them be dying, cuz of dat siccness then crea... 

.ated by me and them say 

Load up that nina* I'm finna finna go pull 

Them boys getting out them nine cut them in half with some of them 

Ripgut, quality, for the fundamental cannibalism 

Got them black enemy runnin in and when them, 

Sickness kick in a million, baby dying, buck! 

Photos 

Hit em with my G like every day, nigga, 

From the creek to the Garden Blocc, 

I was creepin from the double dead red till all the drama stop, 

And 50 150 is all that shouldn't even be on a niggas list 

Cuz since for the fuckin with I've been crazy times 666 and um, 

Niggas cant see my folk when I dump them .44 slugs all down they throat 

It takes one time, all night, to peel your tonsols 

From the phone post, you know, 

All up in the cut with the real deuce deuce four love I got 

But you know that nigga from the creek so peep at what this trigger got 

Come follow me sin, come quick cuz I'm bustin all up on your, blocc 

Shakin up yo nuts like dice deuce four in the don't strike twice 

Them gon all go say "oh" about 44 times till so, 

Much later than you go, better off dead, but nigga instead 

That I let your mama know, she might wanna follow this Fahlivum shit 

Cuz a nigga wont last much longer, with wraps in the cut 

Chewin all on your nuts like my nigga Jeffrey Dahlmer, 

Cant load that shit that sickness gets me harder than a corpse 

Till I reach for the greeds that nigga start jackin off until it hurts 

Swallow my shit so thick this nigga run loccs up on you almost daily 

For the digs then I'm off dick grow soft with lynch I'm chewin up babies 

We gonna stay sicc, for the crazy run em up gospel shit kicks in 

It's the nigga named 6 with the locc to the brain style fix 

Eatin up your dead skin