Welcome 2 Your Own Death

Brotha Lynch Hung

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    As I bail through the woods of the southside
    Terrors on nine milli chrome kill alone cause I trust no snitch
    When I peel a dome and bail
    Gone like hell right through the do
    I'm rollin' a fat sack of red boogy boo, nigga ooh
    Watch me bail nigga but you don't see me though
    Cause I'm rollin' fat sacks in the back of my vehicle
    But takin' a puff of the dank stuff
    and enough that double O-A-E dooz me
    I'm slowly loadin' up the oozy
    Well now who's he
    Well it's that dead motherfucker doe
    Well whatcha know comin' through with that murder mo
    And I heard you know now whose been bustin' up on the garden block
    You either give up the information,
    nigga I get shots, so nigga nah WHAT!
    I guess you wanna dose of this milla
    Twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa
    Nigga mack hustla, cap busta, infact I'm just a mack ten
    Bustin' em at your chin before I crept nigga
    Welcome to your own death

    Chorus x6
    Nigga welcome to your own death

    (BUCK! For them who don't know bout loc to da brain
    Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game) x2

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    So niggas miss my sicc
    Some niggas don't know me, niggas don't know my click
    That O-loc-double-C-O-G rip gut canibal type of shit
    Plus many more caps bust
    Anymore sacks to roll up, we need that high back
    So niggas done load them nins and pull them high jacks
    And lie back in the cut and roll another fat one up
    Tack one up for loc to the brain
    Them niggas that really don't give a fuck
    Around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut
    So nigga now whatcha gon do with a mini mack ten ten at yo gut
    Plus niggas nuts and guts is what I rips for
    Creepin' up in a six four impala
    Mobbin' a loots all up to make you vomit from the raw gut cause
    Nah what I do is let my nine do the talkin'
    Leavin' you walkin' to your funeral low
    Diggin'? yo smoke from the mack 1-0
    I had ya pussin' just in case
    I got me a mack eleven for your face that's leavin' no trace
    Caps leavin' a gate and puttin' holes in a niggas neck
    So watch the reeper when I creep crept
    Welcome to your own death

    Chorus x6

    When I hit the block with a nine
    Them fools better be duckin'
    My nigga duck got out the car and started buckin' at niggas runnin'
    untraceable gage shells
    Only worriers goin' to hell
    And 5-0 they just can't swoop
    See cause we mobbin' too well
    My murder file done pile more than a nigga expected
    See cause have of the city of Sac still ain't accepted
    That I'm a pack and when I'm sweated I'ma put in work
    Cause my O-T told me why Jesus got to kick up some dirt
    And I'm tired of warnin' a motherfucker about a nigga like me
    When it's hard to believe
    the nine millimeter comin' out my pants gonna make you dance
    See that's the city and it's making a motherfucker stress
    Gotta watch your back like 24-7
    unless you wanna be livin' the rest of your life
    Up in a cemetery die nigga die you'll repeat until you're buried
    That nine millimeter givin' no motherfuckin' respect
    Up on your back with your last breathe
    Welcome to your own death

    Chorus x6

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