Reachin' for Fame

歌手: Brotha Lynch Hung • 专辑:Lynch By Inch, Suicide Note • 发布时间:2009-08-04
作词 : Brotha Lynch Hung
Yeh, yeh.. 
Back at that ass once again 
Had to do it, ********** ******z in the town 
Ya know what 
I'm sayin' 
I'ma tell 'em what 
I know Know what 
I know  
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 ******' wit me, believe it 
I'll tuck the fifty cal now cause some ******z tried to get me 
Split me in half like a joint **********, 
I had it crackin' 
Slugs went flyin' through ya window, ****** 
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 
****** you taste good like sour cream and chives over potatoes 
I'm a tornado, you just a puddle 
A poodle talkin' **********t '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 ********** 
I got I got the key to the spot 
Better hide yo ********** 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 **********t rock up just like ******* 
You a no name 
I'm preachin' you still reachin' for fame  
Same old **********t but a different day 
Back at these ******z like boomerangs 
****** wanna come around and do my thang 
Bangin' these ******z for the dead issues 
Call the paramedics to get you 
Not ******' wid me in this lifetime 
Not thinkin' in my right mind 
Like Mike 
Tyson when it's my time 
Got these ******z hollerin' woof 
Baby you ain't hard as hundred proof 
My fellow you just a ****** that won't fit in a puddle 
Piece a **********t, nut ridin' get your ass outta hidin' 
Dip on 21st street ridin' there won't be a survivor 
Yo ass ain't no 
McGuyver you done say the wrong thangs 
The method that 
I got to give 'em bustin' out some teeth to say the less 
You can save the rest for later 
I mean I'm way to major like 
E-major ****** 
You claimin' my game but you ain't nothin' but a hater 
So when I pull out my tool scram 
Ya riddled drain eggs and ham you in the fryin' pan 
The way I reach out and snap a ****** like a rubber band 
Oh no there goes another man tryna ****** wid the 
Siccmade fam 
Uh, Uh again?, 
God damn  
These ******z talk alot of **********t but don't really know about 
C-O That sneaky mother******a hit ya ass like ya 
P-O When ya least expect it with the cold 
Smith and 
Wesson Have my **********, set you up at the telly get you undressin' 
Then it's lights camera action my pistol's blastin' 
Ya night went from ca**********n' to missin' fractions 
But **********t do happen, so ya shoulda been ready 
Instead of doin' all that yappin' shoulda copped you somethin' heavy 
We deadly, like rattlesnake bites y'all the taddlin' type 
Deal wit my pain and probably rattle ya life 
So instead of worryin' about ours you need to see 
What's the matter wit ya life? 
What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get it right? 
What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get a life? 
Then spark it up this hitter does so ya can't get no ice 
So now ya wanna hold a grudge wid, ******z like us 
Beause we move **********t like drugs where y'all stayin' and cus 
And talk about the same **********t all day 
And us we on the next page and after that the next page 
So try again the next day if you can't fade us today 
Practice makes perfect lil' guy stay in ya place  
I'm a Southside rider, funk provider 
Leave you in the trunk tied up, punk ya lied to us 
Just to tryna glock wid us get a piece of the pie wid us 
We too O-G, 
I don't ****** wid them mics cuz 
I'm diggy down it will take plots to get me now 
And I got the fifty thou, wanna bet ya not get me pow 
I'm the threat starter fire starter put a hole in ya 
Starter And you couldn't find me cause it's time for departure 
Tryna get ya 
CD's out, 
I know it start ya 
Blame it on me 
I got heat, 
I leave ya scortched up 
I'm on the porch and nuttin' up, 
Southside, keep locked 
Where the 
G's knock ******z out for ******' up, we tuck 'em up 
Me and C-O and 
Tall Cann you can't ****** wid us 
We somethin' rough you ******z be punkin' up we got pumps and stuff 
All up in the trunk and stuff we be waitin' for attack 
Get me sprayin' on ya pack and now you layin' on ya back 
You ain't payin' all ya rap taxes institute of malpractice 
I put ya raps in a casket you half plastic 
Patty mealed ass ****** put ya raps in the thrashbin 
Ya cla**********n' wid the 
Burbank titan fasten ya seatbelts 
I'm bout to make ya meat melt 
That beer breath spittin' meat chunks at ya wig punk 
I fear less rather hear less, you ******z is tryna pay less 
I make ya days less trippin' on the famous tryna get famous 
****** please  
Ain't nobody ******' wit me, this side of the city 
Northside gangsta ride turn you liars to sissies 
You ain't bangin' **********t so miss me wid ya bull**********t comment 
You know me, 
I wor**********p drama that was a curse from my momma 
So if you wanna bring it here boy 
Northgate in 
El camino 
I'm right here boy 
All day long all night strong we be runnin' the 
North And 
I can have ******z from your hood, run on ya porch 
Ya little cowards keep the gun in ya shorts 
We keep the blunts and the ports to blaze up 
After ya spirit raise up you still think you can rap you need to give them days up 
It's gonna cost you ya cap takin' cheap shots at us 
So cuz toss me the strap and put these streets on hush 
Because they full of wack ******z and they speak too much 
And now we can't have that because we 
G too much 
So I'ma end it on this fact ******'ll bleed too much 
Ya keep talkin'
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