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Home >> Brotha Lynch Hung >> The Corpse Came To Dinner
Album: The Best Of Brotha Lynch Hung

The Corpse Came To Dinner

Brotha Lynch (Verse 1)

Now I'm the type'a nigga that'll leave a horse head in ya bed/ sleep witcha wife then/ commence the knifin'/ get away clean with the scheme, Glock 17, in my lap, as I creep away in the black Cadillac/ cause you know I got shit to do, fake ID cause I been murderin' muthafuckas like- who?- HIV/ as I creep real slow thu ya blood vessels- and then?- five weeks later nigga god bless ya/ now I'm stressed with the Smith and Wess/ my music career aint been the best/ bound to have my momma wearin' a tight dress/ bitch make my money right, or get ya throat slit and drug in the bushes as ya, inside gushes/ then I'm smashin' through the night- in what?- Mazaratti with the posse hittin' corners hella tight- yeah right- nigga you know I'm right (oh)/ my momma taught me nigga don't give a fuck/ and when I die, cover me in a joint and smoke me up

Chorus (4x)
That's what I said...

Loki (Verse 2)
I'm high up out the hocus pocus, my diagnosis is a murderous psychosis and muthafuckas know this/ I'm quick to pull the pin up out the grenade and hand you the pineapple and say Here muthafucka, hold this (oh no)/ Loki and the murder show/ the sequence begins with freaks in the mo-mo/ we see an alibi's provided/ we creep'd in and now my niggas ridin'/ slips clips in jump in and do that shit smokin' buddah shit/ see when they say siccmade it and whispers that it taste-es bitter, blowin' muthafuckas in to smita-(reens)/ triple X liquor/ with nothin' but curses in our verses, obscene/ unfit for major mainstream magazines/ lace you up in kerosene and see that ass ignited, I mean/ we got the V-8 for ya gangsta lean/ I seen, war machines and street marines, dirty ninas in the hands of ghetto fiends/ I'm caught between, the hard life and ghetto dreams/ got schemes/ with black berets and getaways like OJ (clean)/ don't get got, she got the cannabalistic Q-zine/ and the illegitimate got another 16 (ha ha)/ you see the front page news only show the inmates and not the cage while, elections play with the public's rage/ fuck those that criticize, let 'em lead our lives/ do the shit we done and then say that we were right

Chorus

Brotha Lynch (Verse 3)

Black pits in the backyard, I don't feed 'em/ gotta buy 'bout a pit a week, cause they gotta eat/ off that mad dog 20/20 I'm 'bout ta take my money/ ski mask, gotta manage, better take advantage/ understand this, radiation and mushroom blast/ it's almost 20 G, gotta plot my shit and get my cash/ D-Dub around the corner in the Im-pala/ Zig-zag in the trash can with the auto mag last time I saw her/ Beta (what) stand lookout by the liqour store/ Loki, hear some movement, nigga you know, do that ho/ times murder so I'm time plottin', creep, with a hand cannon takin' out every nigga bandstandin'/ cause I'm aggressive like a wolverine/ B done caught that ass and got out the gasoline, hot out ya worsest dream/ then it all adds up (to what?) sittin' in Hawaii wit' a AK on my lap off that puffy stuff

Chorus

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