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Brotha Lynch Hung

Genres: Hip-Hop

There It Is - Brotha Lynch Hung Lyrics - Brotha Lynch Hung

This song is dedicated to the niggas that be bumpin gums and talkin shit 

behind a nigga back knowing I can't defend myself. 

If you trippin, oh if you trippin then it must be you I'm talkin bout. 

And if it ain't you ... don't trip 

 

[Brother Lynch] 

Drop niggas like bad habits that's the truth 

Mutha fuckas be runnin around actin like they bullet proof 

How could I trust you when you couldn't bust two slugs for me? 

Talkin bout you thug homie you really ain't got no love for me 

Anyway what you do for me? ... Nuttin 

You won't let the 45 keep buckin what you talkin bout in yo stuff? 

You don't live no where near gangsta street 

And if I wanted to I could take out some of yo teeth 

And for the rest of my life have beef and you know what I do with meat 

Known to cheat, creep from the back in the Cadillac Seville 

Pull out the strap and the tack to peel 

And if it don't happen I'm keep doin music and talkin shit about you 

Never even mention yo name, cuzz it'll all come out you a bitch ass nigga 

You live yo life all secluded, if I wasn't around you wouldn't do shit 

Talkin bout you jack niggas, put him in the back wit a blue rag around they snuggle 

Used to have a huddle of Sicc Made Niggas now it's only me to rumble 

Eat em up like gumbo don't trip how could I know? 

I was so comfortable you took advantage of the whole 

Situation all that shit you makin it was cuz of me 

We was cool for all those years but I was blind and couldn't see 

 

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[Chorus] 

There it is ... another nigga went ballistic on me 

Couldn't have is way so I guess he turned his back on me 

And if he didn't I'm just tired of shit 

I'd rather do it on my own do it all alone he was dipped [2x] 

 

[Brother Lynch] 

This some fake nigga pain 

How could I of knew it fat supply of liquor fluid 

And some green leaves that stank up the whole house 

That's how we had it everyday 

Make sure my niggas was drunk and high in every way 

3 o'clock in the morin comin home drunk and fall out 

I didn't give a fuck it was my homies I went all out 

Then I found out most of em fake like Van Damme 

They knew about the game but couldn't break a damn can 

With hollow tips in they hands I juked em like a crack sack 

Made em feel hella bad made sure they never comin back 

They showed me too much shit I couldn't take it couldn't make it 

Another year dealin with all this fake shit 

Nigga yeah ... and nigga I'm tired of you spyin on me 

Kickin it with that other mutha fucka that be lyin on me 

Why homie? I thought me and you was untouchable 

You be tellin everybody what you know, so bye homie 

 

Photos 

 

There it is ... another nigga went ballistic on me 

Didn't think I loved him so I guess he turned his back on me 

And if he didn't I'm just tired of shit 

I'd rather do it on my own do it alone he was dipped [x2] 

 

[Brother Lynch] 

In some weak nigga sauce, the kind you put on spagetti 

I'm a kick back nigga but I'm armed and deadly 

And I'm shootin them gangsta medleys to yo heart and soul 

Known to put a mini mack in a nap sack and get off the yack and kill a CEO 

Then you can see me smoke circles out yo neighborhood 

With a tar can in my lap 20 pack and a 50 sack 

Metal to metal then he won't settle til you in that wood 

I can't help it that's how it is I may run up in yo crib and get yo kids 

You know I could, you couldn't touch me with a silencer form long range 

I tried to do all I could but you think it's all game 

Sit at home drunk and judge niggas 

You remind me of my uncle of always havin a grudge, nigga 

Ain't nuttin gon' happen that ain't suppose to happen 

Appse to rappin I close the gap in 

I hit that ass with a mini mack, closed captions 

Cuz I'm a MVP, Maximin Violence Profector 

And if you fuck wit me, fuck you in the ass with the weapon 

Grew up in the GBC, a hood where niggas really don't give a fuck 

Smash pass the one-time hittin blunts 

Smoke the whole parkin lot up 

And you already knew that about me nigga what's yo problem? 

Bumpin them gums like you Green Goblin we gon' be squabblin 

 

[Chorus 4x] 

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