Brotha Lynch Hung - Liquor Sicc lyrics

Look up in the sky it's a motherfuckin slug
Some nigga done let one off and
Only my cousins sheddin' blood
That loccest muthafucka from 29 st
Throwin up his flag
So nigga got madd and went to
The crib with a .45 mag
Returned to the set-up and let
My cousin have it
That nigga that died for the garden blocc
Gang did time for the garden blocc
And ended up stuck in a muthafuckin casket
But i dont be givin a fuck
Im tappin up in your program
Before you know it
I'm creepin up on ya in a
Licorice dark black drop-top broham
With a 12 gauge pump in da trunk
And a clip full of funk
And a fat purple cush blunt so
Call it what you want
I call it the fever of da funkhouse
Dumpin gauge shells in that ass
Leavin you face down
Chest down with a gang of guts
Hangin out yo ass nigga
You know tha process they wanna kill me
Now I'm a dead man walkin to
My funeral can you feel me
Now and if die before your set gets blasted
That's on the garden cause I'm gonna
Rise up out my casket

I'm liquor sicc and I
Just might lose control
So load your clips loccs cause
We ridin for our foes

And im out in 6 5' hardtop
Impala lookin for that 187
There we go and right behind em
Bustin wit my mack 11
Straight bumpa to bumpa 12 gage pump
Was that little X loccsta
Givin up his set dumpin on niggas
Just like hes supposed ta
Nigga this is real deal shit its
Not about crip or blood
It's about pay back that family loves
So nigga now fuck yo whole click
Like 24 deep they tryin ta kill
Me fo my fuckin tapes
Them baby rapes so nigga get
Out my fuckin face
If I was really bangin niggaz would know
Cause I'd have they whole set lookin
Like L.A. when da earthquake hit
Nigga fuckin wit my tek I'm
From da garden blocc
No matter what nobody say I'm makin my money
And not lettin that bangin shit get in my way
Niggaz get mad they wanna
See the lynch rippin
I'm wearing blue yeah but motherfucker
I ain't even trippin
But for cousin Q-Ball
Mr.Doc, and Sicx my cousin eclipse
And 2 of my kidz nigga catch these clips

I'm liquor sicc and I
Just might lose control
So load your clips loccs cause
We ridin for our foes

There aint no fuckin way my cousin's
Gonna lay up in a casket wit no retaliation
There aint no fuckin way that
Motherfucker died for that blocc
So lets heat them motherfuckin glocks