Welcome 2 Your Own Death

歌手: Brotha Lynch Hung • 时间:

📝 纯歌词版本

作曲 : Kevin Mann
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, bitch ooh.
Watch me bail bitch 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 mother****er 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,
Bitch I get shots, so bitch nah WHAT!
I guess you wanna dose of this milla
Twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa
Bitch mack hustla, cap busta, infact I'm just a mack ten.
Bustin' em at your chin before I crept bitch.
Welcome to your own death
Chorus x6
Bitch 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
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 ****.
Around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut
So bitch 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 nigga's 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 bitch 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 bitch 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 mother****er 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 mother****er stress.
Gotta watch your back like 24-7
unless you wanna be livin' the rest of your life
Up in a cemetery die bitch die you'll repeat until you're buried.
That nine millimeter givin' no mother****er' respect.
Up on your back with your last breathe
Welcome to your own death
Chorus x6

🎵 LRC歌词版本

[00:00.00] 作曲 : Kevin Mann
[00:11.82]As I bail through the woods of the southside
[00:14.49]Terrors on nine milli chrome kill alone cause I trust no snitch
[00:18.81]When I peel a dome and bail
[00:20.64]Gone like hell right through the do
[00:22.68]I'm rollin' a fat sack of red boogy boo, bitch ooh.
[00:25.89]Watch me bail bitch but you don't see me though.
[00:28.53]Cause I'm rollin' fat sacks in the back of my vehicle
[00:32.04]But takin' a puff of the dank stuff
[00:33.69]and enough that double O-A-E dooz me
[00:36.06]I'm slowly loadin' up the oozy
[00:37.98]Well now who's he
[00:39.09]Well it's that dead mother****er doe.
[00:41.16]Well whatcha know comin' through with that murder mo
[00:44.01]And I heard you know now whose been bustin' up on the garden block
[00:47.07]You either give up the information,
[00:49.35]Bitch I get shots, so bitch nah WHAT!
[00:51.39]I guess you wanna dose of this milla
[00:53.82]Twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa
[00:56.70]Bitch mack hustla, cap busta, infact I'm just a mack ten.
[01:00.30]Bustin' em at your chin before I crept bitch.
[01:02.70]Welcome to your own death
[01:05.46]Chorus x6
[01:07.50]Bitch welcome to your own death.
[01:42.99](BUCK! For them who don't know bout loc to da brain
[01:50.22]Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game) x2
[01:53.04]So niggas miss my sicc.
[01:54.54]Some niggas don't know me, niggas don't know my click.
[01:56.73]That O-loc-double-C-O-G rip gut canibal type of shit.
[02:00.18]Plus many more caps bust
[02:01.68]Anymore sacks to roll up, we need that high back
[02:04.05]So niggas done load them nins and pull them high jacks.
[02:06.60]And lie back in the cut and roll another fat one up
[02:09.33]Tack one up for loc to the brain
[02:10.92]Them niggas that really don't give a ****.
[02:12.39]Around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut
[02:15.60]So bitch now whatcha gon do with a mini mack ten ten at yo gut.
[02:19.17]Plus niggas nuts and guts is what I rips for.
[02:21.51]Creepin' up in a six four impala
[02:23.85]Mobbin' a loots all up to make you vomit from the raw gut cause
[02:27.27]Nah what I do is let my nine do the talkin'
[02:30.00]Leavin' you walkin' to your funeral low
[02:32.10]Diggin'? yo smoke from the mack 1-0
[02:33.87]I had ya pussin' just in case
[02:35.76]I got me a mack eleven for your face that's leavin' no trace
[02:38.49]Caps leavin' a gate and puttin' holes in a nigga's neck.
[02:41.55]So watch the reeper when I creep crept
[02:43.77]Welcome to your own death
[03:24.27]Chorus x6
[03:34.44]When I hit the block with a nine
[03:36.18]Them fools better be duckin'
[03:37.68]My bitch duck got out the car and started buckin' at niggas runnin'.
[03:41.31]untraceable gage shells
[03:42.72]Only worriers goin' to hell
[03:44.49]And 5-0 they just can't swoop
[03:46.29]See cause we mobbin' too well
[03:47.97]My murder file done pile more than a bitch expected.
[03:51.15]See cause have of the city of Sac still ain't accepted
[03:54.30]That I'm a pack and when I'm sweated I'ma put in work
[03:57.30]Cause my O-T told me why Jesus got to kick up some dirt
[04:00.60]And I'm tired of warnin' a mother****er about a nigga like me.
[04:03.75]When it's hard to believe
[04:04.59]the nine millimeter comin' out my pants gonna make you dance
[04:07.65]See that's the city and it's making a mother****er stress.
[04:10.77]Gotta watch your back like 24-7
[04:12.57]unless you wanna be livin' the rest of your life
[04:14.76]Up in a cemetery die bitch die you'll repeat until you're buried.
[04:19.47]That nine millimeter givin' no mother****er' respect.
[04:22.62]Up on your back with your last breathe
[04:24.84]Welcome to your own death
[04:59.22]Chorus x6

🌍 纯翻译歌词

当我穿越南郊丛林逃亡
恐惧弥漫 九毫米镀铬独自杀戮 因我从不信任告密者
当我掀开头盖骨逃离
如地狱来客破门而去
我卷着肥厚红草烟 贱货 哦
看我逃窜但你抓不到踪迹
因我车后座堆满鼓胀的草袋
深吸一口极品货
双倍OA-E让我神魂颠倒
乌兹枪缓缓上膛
猜猜这是谁
正是那个死透的混账东西
带着杀戮节奏突然现身
听说你在街区花园大开杀戒
要么老实交代情报
贱人吃子弹吧 说什么废话
看来你想尝尝米勒的滋味
二十四发来自妈妈宝贝杀手
贱人皮条客 爆头专家 其实我就是MAC-10
在你下巴开花前悄然逼近
欢迎来到你的死期
副歌x6
贱人欢迎来到你的死期
(砰!给不懂脑部中弹的蠢货
他们揣着九毫米 游戏规则就是真实)x2
所以混混们错过我的狠辣
有些人不认识我和我的帮派
那个O-Loc双C-O-G开膛手食人族风格
更多弹壳爆裂
没烟卷了就搞点高端货
混混们装满九毫米准备劫车
躲在暗处又卷起一根肥的
为脑部中弹的兄弟点一根
那些真正无所顾忌的狠角色
转身上膛 扫射后扔进卡车扬长而去
贱人现在迷你MAC-10顶着你肚子能怎样
混混的睾丸内脏正是我撕裂的目标
六四款黑斑羚车里潜行
掠夺战利品直到你吐出内脏
不如让我的九毫米代我发言
让你蹒跚走向自己的葬礼
懂吗 抽着MAC-10的烟
早给你备好了裹尸袋
MAC-11对准你脸让你人间蒸发
弹孔在脖子上开出血色大门
死神降临看我悄然收割
欢迎来到你的死期
副歌x6
当我持九毫米现身街区
蠢货们最好抱头鼠窜
我的婊子下车就对逃窜者开火
无痕弹壳飞舞
只有战士才下地狱
条子根本没法突袭
因我们行动太默契
我的谋杀档案厚得超出预期
萨克城半数人至今不肯接受
我是狠角色 暴怒时必见血
因我老大哥说耶稣也得踢起尘土
懒得再警告别人关于我这种狠人
当裤管里掏出九毫米
逼你跳起死亡之舞时
这就是城市让人压力爆表
必须24/7保持警惕
除非你想在墓地度过余生
死吧贱人重复到入土为安
九毫米从不给任何人面子
仰面倒下咽下最后一口气
欢迎来到你的死期
副歌x6

🔤 LRC翻译歌词

[00:11.82]当我穿越南郊丛林逃亡
[00:14.49]恐惧弥漫 九毫米镀铬独自杀戮 因我从不信任告密者
[00:18.81]当我掀开头盖骨逃离
[00:20.64]如地狱来客破门而去
[00:22.68]我卷着肥厚红草烟 贱货 哦
[00:25.89]看我逃窜但你抓不到踪迹
[00:28.53]因我车后座堆满鼓胀的草袋
[00:32.04]深吸一口极品货
[00:33.69]双倍OA-E让我神魂颠倒
[00:36.06]乌兹枪缓缓上膛
[00:37.98]猜猜这是谁
[00:39.09]正是那个死透的混账东西
[00:41.16]带着杀戮节奏突然现身
[00:44.01]听说你在街区花园大开杀戒
[00:47.07]要么老实交代情报
[00:49.35]贱人吃子弹吧 说什么废话
[00:51.39]看来你想尝尝米勒的滋味
[00:53.82]二十四发来自妈妈宝贝杀手
[00:56.70]贱人皮条客 爆头专家 其实我就是MAC-10
[01:00.30]在你下巴开花前悄然逼近
[01:02.70]欢迎来到你的死期
[01:05.46]副歌x6
[01:07.50]贱人欢迎来到你的死期
[01:42.99](砰!给不懂脑部中弹的蠢货
[01:50.22]他们揣着九毫米 游戏规则就是真实)x2
[01:53.04]所以混混们错过我的狠辣
[01:54.54]有些人不认识我和我的帮派
[01:56.73]那个O-Loc双C-O-G开膛手食人族风格
[02:00.18]更多弹壳爆裂
[02:01.68]没烟卷了就搞点高端货
[02:04.05]混混们装满九毫米准备劫车
[02:06.60]躲在暗处又卷起一根肥的
[02:09.33]为脑部中弹的兄弟点一根
[02:10.92]那些真正无所顾忌的狠角色
[02:12.39]转身上膛 扫射后扔进卡车扬长而去
[02:15.60]贱人现在迷你MAC-10顶着你肚子能怎样
[02:19.17]混混的睾丸内脏正是我撕裂的目标
[02:21.51]六四款黑斑羚车里潜行
[02:23.85]掠夺战利品直到你吐出内脏
[02:27.27]不如让我的九毫米代我发言
[02:30.00]让你蹒跚走向自己的葬礼
[02:32.10]懂吗 抽着MAC-10的烟
[02:33.87]早给你备好了裹尸袋
[02:35.76]MAC-11对准你脸让你人间蒸发
[02:38.49]弹孔在脖子上开出血色大门
[02:41.55]死神降临看我悄然收割
[02:43.77]欢迎来到你的死期
[03:24.27]副歌x6
[03:34.44]当我持九毫米现身街区
[03:36.18]蠢货们最好抱头鼠窜
[03:37.68]我的婊子下车就对逃窜者开火
[03:41.31]无痕弹壳飞舞
[03:42.72]只有战士才下地狱
[03:44.49]条子根本没法突袭
[03:46.29]因我们行动太默契
[03:47.97]我的谋杀档案厚得超出预期
[03:51.15]萨克城半数人至今不肯接受
[03:54.30]我是狠角色 暴怒时必见血
[03:57.30]因我老大哥说耶稣也得踢起尘土
[04:00.60]懒得再警告别人关于我这种狠人
[04:03.75]当裤管里掏出九毫米
[04:04.59]逼你跳起死亡之舞时
[04:07.65]这就是城市让人压力爆表
[04:10.77]必须24/7保持警惕
[04:12.57]除非你想在墓地度过余生
[04:14.76]死吧贱人重复到入土为安
[04:19.47]九毫米从不给任何人面子
[04:22.62]仰面倒下咽下最后一口气
[04:24.84]欢迎来到你的死期
[04:59.22]副歌x6

📝 纯歌词版本

作曲 : Kevin Mann
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, bitch ooh.
Watch me bail bitch 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 mother****er 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,
Bitch I get shots, so bitch nah WHAT!
I guess you wanna dose of this milla
Twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa
Bitch mack hustla, cap busta, infact I'm just a mack ten.
Bustin' em at your chin before I crept bitch.
Welcome to your own death
Chorus x6
Bitch 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
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 ****.
Around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut
So bitch 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 nigga's 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 bitch 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 bitch 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 mother****er 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 mother****er stress.
Gotta watch your back like 24-7
unless you wanna be livin' the rest of your life
Up in a cemetery die bitch die you'll repeat until you're buried.
That nine millimeter givin' no mother****er' respect.
Up on your back with your last breathe
Welcome to your own death
Chorus x6
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Welcome 2 Your Own Death
Brotha Lynch Hung