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Brotha Lynch Hung - Spydie's Birth lyrics
Yeah, I'm in the dark on these niggas... Okay [Verse 1] Maybe they don't know I'ma, O.E You just a king cobra straight No via satellite, it'd take more than a car battery to juice me Killa appetite, never catch me actin' right Smoke a two hundred sack a night, like an AK when I shoot these Please believe I pack it right, produce rapid stripes(?) They call me Randy Johnson, hundred and twenty miles an hour ...(?) Nigga you must be off that powder, I'm Spiderman Give me a blunt, pen, pad, and an hour, I'll make it shower My taliban, Siccmade Muzicc we keep it heated like Nascar (guess what) Plain and simple patna, fill up the clip and then blast ours Ain't no rippin shit, it's all S-I-double C, you trouble me I'm loco in the cabesa and I'm siccer than the rest-a I'll blow your chest up, he need an ambulance Two minutes left, he don't have a chance, not even half a chance Leave him with feces all in his pants when we pick him up I rip 'em up right out the dump truck 'cause I'm [Chorus] Spiderman, Spiderman, try'na see how much you know you can He sports the tec's, any size You playin' him close he might blow your mind He's deep in the cut, heat all around Tryin' to find him he's no where to be found Okay, here comes the Spiderman (Here comes the Spiderman...) [Verse 2] I'm like (?) snipers, I ain't try'na brag, but here You need these numbers to this place that be makin' body bags I'm the kamikaze magnum while I'm draggin' um To the spot, gotta get the ...(?) Like roast beef, nigga I ain't supposed to beef But I love meat and I got Sacramento enemies, So I love heat Got a sack of indo green leaves and I'm 'bout to twist it So move with me nigga, quick shit patna, you 'bout to miss it Now I don't smoke with them busted browns(?), I clutch the pounds And if you fuck wid it I rub ya down With seventeen rounds, crack the everclear now Forever real now, spittin' at the whole crowd verbs and nouns And no felonies so I pack somethin' heavy I took the Chevy to the levy, two hundred and fifty pounds of red meat 'n feddy You got it twisted up like crazy Eddie ...(?) From two hundred and yards away I make ya head bleed steadily [Chorus] [Verse 3] Bet I could teach ya how to dissect your stomach muscles 'n eat 'em These days that ain't shit, cut 'em and bleed 'em I seen worse shit, fuck em and feed em bloody spaghetti That Siccmade shit, cuddy get ready, bloody your Chevy interior quick Muddy your driveway, that's what I say Fuck it, you 'bout to die today Got a chopper in the hideaway, don't make me use it Off a half pipe(?) with the Ol' 8 English, don't make me lose it I'm cry baby locc, that's it I'm from the block where you learn at sixteen to load glocks, pack clips and smoke pot Slumpin' Tupac, 'Me Against The World' cuz it juice me I got episodes and episodes like Ricky and Lucy Drama shit, dead momma shit, don't give a fuck shit Rough shit, shut you up in the back of the truck shit Them gangsta bitches love this, they jack off to it I'm Spiderman, bitch ass nigga I thought you knew this [Chorus] x2 |
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