Reachin For Fame

Brotha Lynch Hung

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    [lynch talking]
    Yeh, yeh..
    Back at that ass once again
    Had to do it, bitch niggaz in the town
    Ya know what i'm sayin'
    I'ma tell 'em what i know
    Know what i know

    [brotha lynch hung]
    Word on the streets is don't quit ya day job
    I own spots while you won't even get to own a spot
    I'm unconcious sippin' on that sugary saint i-des
    Your raps need that midas touch while mines rhymes
    It's suicide fuckin' wit me, believe it
    I'll tuck the fifty cal now cause some niggaz tried to get me
    Split me in half like a joint bitch, i had it crackin'
    Slugs went flyin' through ya window, nigga i'm the captain
    You just rappin' to get by, might have to get to wrapped in a 6-5
    Might have to get that truckin' and get locked
    Nigga you taste good like sour cream and chives over potatoes
    I'm a tornado, you just a puddle
    A poodle talkin' shit 'bout to get one put in ya noodle
    Biotch ya got the nuts to be attackin' back at me
    My chap i'm strapped have the fifty pound metal in the back seat
    And it's all legal, got me dumpin' at ya regal wid the do dirty
    Gotta get mine done no matter who hurt me
    Every bitch i got i got the key to the spot
    Better hide yo bitch before i get the key to your spot
    Stand right over ya bed wid yo glock
    Put one right in ya head ya whole cake
    You ain't even gon' play my shit rock up just like cocaine
    You a no name i'm preachin' you still reachin' for fame

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    [tall cann]
    Same old shit but a different day
    Back at these niggaz like boomerangs
    Nigga wanna come around and do my thang
    Bangin' these niggaz for the dead issues
    Call the paramedics to get you
    Not fuckin' wid me in this lifetime
    Not

    Song details

    Composition: Brotha Lynch Hung

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