Brotha Lynch Hung, First Degree, Polo, P-Folk - Heataz lyrics

The evil that men do got me servin' heaters
Morphin' them body bleeders into believers
Had these bitches bringin' me
Cleavage and cannibis-sativa
Big leaguers
Wide receivers, we quivers off malt liters
So lead us to the cheap shit
Got more close so I could reach it
Need it in the jungle
Humble man gone too soon
Wasn't ready for the rumble
So I disperse my seasoning
Pleasing when I get to reasoning
Like soul cleaner
When did it, when did it get to heatin' up?
Fuck, fuck, another fuck, fuck the
Bitch and they stuck
Fuck till they brains stuffed
Then changed they demeanor
After sticking in vagina
Turn a perfect stranger into my
Part time personal rump ranger
Workin' the night shift
Temporary employment, ya mind says fight it
But your emotions is delighted
And thats what runs you
Sensitive bitches and niggas
Get ran for a loop
My heat is a muthafuck, First Degree
Oh First Degree so bound to the city
Sittin' high lookin' down next
Up to the climax
Stayin' deliciously loaded
Quit my fry, Mr. Hot burnin' flesh
Got that THC marinatin' in my chest
That stays I guess
So I'm approachin' this light shit
And heatin' it beautiful
I'ma tokin' this wide stick
Hittin' plentiful
Huh, huh, huh, tryna make my dollar

I got somethin' for your mask
This shit here is hard to swallow
Could be hazardous to your health
Fully equipped to leave your insides hollow
Ziplock lips and listen
I'm on a mission, switchin' positions
In case of accidental consumption
Dilute with 2 cups of milk
And contact your physician
Heated and hanged
Who am I? Trigger Man, suspect number one
I let loose
Do not induce vomiting
Or you throwing up your lung
Dialing 9-1-1, it's flammable, uncontainable
You die by the superfly when I spy
Flip and grip, changeable
Specially formulated to have
All costs regulated
And also the ones that participated
In playing bitch games
And plain playa hatin'
5 foot 6", sick hogg and all about mines
Dead bodies don't talk
Kill 'em, tape and chalk
So if you fall short....flatline
Nigga, when you near give
Me adequate ventilation
Avoid physical contact and inhalation
Facial premeditation can lead to
Skin and eye irritation
Does that exlude a bitch
Boot town boot up, shoot up shit
Never water based
Straight laced to your face
With no nurse or first aid chase
No after taste
Now brace yourself for the hand
That rocks the cradle
Nigga them conversations lead to sticky
Situations that sometimes turn fatal
Hogg translation: Blew yay up straight
With this heated association
Illustrations
Picture yourself in a body bag
Wearin' them closed casket decorations
I got a house full of heaters and liters
Of gas to light up that ass
And it's mandatory
Too short for long conversation
No pre-animation
No nuts, no glory, no witness, no story
Makin' derogatory statements with
My stainless
Slugs with names signed in blood
Individuals stuffed up the anus
Dangerous, aimin' for your body
Almost definitely pull that for hand
To hand combat karate
It's some a that southern young fool

Now what's up? I look in the rearview mirror
Chevy Astro van's suspicious
Usin' my brain, beware of the game
Suspects might be thinkin' I'm fakin'
It's a habit to be caught with and without
Reachin' up under my seat to grab my piece
And the chamber done gauged a round
Turn a beat down
Put it in first gear, slow pace
Thinkin' that I might be paranoid
Effects from the filthy re-chronic blunt that
I just smoked with my boys
Sped ahead
Hogg check, all red til' I'm dead
And I'll be damned if these
Niggas try to make me
P-Folk, brake bread
I'm tied up to it, I'm dread
Like it said 'you live by the sword
You die by the sword'
These niggas don't know they got a one
Way ticket home to the Lord
So bullets will spray
Be up and out the situation
And since it's a jack move
My objective is I gotta take 'em
Roll 'em outta the mainstream
How they warped thinkin' they been ejected
All up in my section
Make a left down El Cord
Toward northern direction
Viewer discretion
Preparation for a justified homicide
These niggas know they ain't
No friend of mine
(check they self)
Caught up at a red light
Grippin' this trilli
Thug from Hollis with nuthin' to prove
Come here ruge
Enemies hoppin' up out the low
P-Folks refuse to lose
Split ones wig with the zig
Evidently he didn't see my third eye
The second suspect tried to hit
P-Folk from the blind side
Exchangin' round for round
Look like a match
The lead sped out the strap
One enemy down
Two enemies gone
Hollow point penetration to the back
The villain defeated
The driver retreated and his partna leaded
Jack got cracked in the mask
For sho' I'm heated

They told me to get my heat, so I got mine
Them muthafuckas done made they hit
Now we only got the mini Mack in the trunk
Sawed off pump and the .45th
Confident that we handle funk
Like muthafuckin' g's
So all you bitches and snitches get
Ditches when my trigger finger itches
It's viscous
For some reason I'm still in that season
All them other muthafuckas done left
Smother muthafuckas to death
Other muthafuckas done slept long
Hit off the kryptonite and get gone
Hit 'em up two in the dome
Visit your funeral home alone
Had love for them once when
This shit got grim
Killin' me softly
It's costly
Check the chin, hit the Henn and then bend
One dial 1-800 Old Gold
And you picture me surrounded by
Fifty pounds of brown meat
Grade A beef, it ain't cheap
I got that shit that'll make
Them weak minds upchuck
Upchuck your guts and I'll have your nuts
Wassup?
You was locked down, so I fucked your bitch
Gave you that syphilis dick
Looped the music, made slick throats slit
Trump tight murder on sight
Split ya dome, hit ya home at night
Move in the dark with infer-red light
You die, then I'ma do your wife
I'ma leave you hangin' on your doorstep
Have your wife ass butt naked
Razor blade razed from the ass to the neck