Brotha Lynch Hung, C-Bo - Drunken Style lyrics
[Brotha Lynch Hung, C-Bo - Drunken Style lyrics]
Drunken style nigga... drunk style
Give me yo clothes, give me your gold
Give me all the money you owe right now
Don't like to think so I drank heavy
Dump slugs out the Chevy
Livin armed and deadly
I'm takin chunks from punks who want funk
Treat em like 15's, put em in the trunk
I split his spleens
Makin sure all my shits clean
Leave the scene like a wolverine with
A gleam and a scheme
Gangsta lean
Out the window
Hit yo block corner, everybody better duck
Burnin tires like the Daytona
Tuck you up, it ain't nuttin
Pushin buttons, blowin smoke at them bustas
See I was just a baby when I first got Sicc
Get the razorblades and alcohol
I'm bout to fill they
Walls with syphilis dick
Just get my kicks
Tricks get chopped up like a cold cut
Heat em up
Flops get rocked up like that coke stuff
I ain't no jokester
Prankster, real gangster
Shit from that nigga that brought you
The Season of the Sicc
Admit, it was my tightest shit besides this
Don't get me wrong, every song is a hit
Guess who made this?
Phonk Beta
While you suckers ain't payin right
We stayin tight
Pullin open ziplocks every night and my
Mama never fed me right
We was broke so I'm off the Ol' E
You know me I ain't no mutha fuckin joke
When it come to rippin up shit
Zip locks, body bag, toe tags
I leave yo t-shirt sweaty any place
Any time you ready
Drunken style nigga
So give me you clothes, give me yo gold
Give me all the money you owe right now
Give me all the money you owe right now
Give me all the money you owe right now
Give me all the money you owe right now
Comin soon
You wanna hear, more buy my shit, 2002
Give me yo clothes, give me your gold
Give me all the money you owe right now
Don't like to think so I drank heavy
Dump slugs out the Chevy
Livin armed and deadly
I'm takin chunks from punks who want funk
Treat em like 15's, put em in the trunk
I split his spleens
Makin sure all my shits clean
Leave the scene like a wolverine with
A gleam and a scheme
Gangsta lean
Out the window
Hit yo block corner, everybody better duck
Burnin tires like the Daytona
Tuck you up, it ain't nuttin
Pushin buttons, blowin smoke at them bustas
See I was just a baby when I first got Sicc
Get the razorblades and alcohol
I'm bout to fill they
Walls with syphilis dick
Just get my kicks
Tricks get chopped up like a cold cut
Heat em up
Flops get rocked up like that coke stuff
I ain't no jokester
Prankster, real gangster
Shit from that nigga that brought you
The Season of the Sicc
Admit, it was my tightest shit besides this
Don't get me wrong, every song is a hit
Guess who made this?
Phonk Beta
While you suckers ain't payin right
We stayin tight
Pullin open ziplocks every night and my
Mama never fed me right
We was broke so I'm off the Ol' E
You know me I ain't no mutha fuckin joke
When it come to rippin up shit
Zip locks, body bag, toe tags
I leave yo t-shirt sweaty any place
Any time you ready
Drunken style nigga
So give me you clothes, give me yo gold
Give me all the money you owe right now
Give me all the money you owe right now
Give me all the money you owe right now
Give me all the money you owe right now
Comin soon
You wanna hear, more buy my shit, 2002