Brotha Lynch Hung - Sicc Made lyrics

[Brotha Lynch Hung - Sicc Made lyrics]

Yeah, the Baby Killa's back
Up in this motherfucka
Straight from tha grave
It gets so deep right
Under the Garden Blocc
Oh, me? Ya can just call
Me Manson...Yeah, we met before
But ya forget that I ain't gonna die
So I'm back up this motherfucka
So peep the mothafuckin' words
From the dead man
Yeah

And when I pack me a gun and
Oh, when I was young
I dreamed of feedin' them niggas soufle
(soofley) a' la dunn
Motherfuckas get hung
My bullet weights a ton
The Garden Blocc Don, the valley of the slum
Tha cannibalistic nigga that got


That 9 millimeter gun
That nigga that nigga that got
Them mothafuckas on the run
They thought that I was done but
Lynch is not the one
To go out from a gunshot wound
Nigga, I'm not done that soon
Bitches, they come but nut just like the
Rest, caught one in the chest
Shoulda wore a vest and
Oh, what a bloody mess
Puffin' off the cess
Dealin' with the stress
Killin' off the less
Fortunate but they trip when
My nine gets sick
Them niggas either die or stay
Stuck on my dick
Cause I'm that nigga they call Lynch
I got'em niggas fiendin' for my shit
I empty clips
Drinkin', fuckin' with tha splift
And it's the nigga that kill for reason
It's the Season Of The Sicc
That's why I got the urge
To shoot that pussy clit
And kill off that infant
So what is my intent?
To show them mothafuckas livin'
Life ain't shit
I gets to gettin' real sick
And eatin' bloody clit
The baby killa shit
Put 'em in a grave with an empty 40
Ounce bottle and don't leave a drip
Cause livin' with tha Tripple-Six
Ya learn to fuck devil in his mouth and
Eat the shit out of his bitch
And I admit: my brain is kinda sick
But now I'm like J. Dahmer
I'm chewin' up all the evidence
I killed to cure my fit, the human meat fix
Bitin' to the skin rips
That sick nigga, so sick
Livin' dead ever since

Yeah, do ya wanna know what that Siccness is?
The Siccness is when you hug your
Mama and ya dick get hard
Or you walk in on your baby's mama
And she's suckin' your son's dick
That's the mothafuckin' Siccness
So, ya mothafuckas don't ya
Forget that shit
And don't forget where the Sicc came from
That nigga Lynch

I take my mouth off up that cog and trip
Cause eatin' dead pussy clit I make ya sick
But it's the Season so my reason is legit
I'm havin' fits
I dreamed of eatin' bloody pussy
Clit's since I was six
I fiend for a dead pussy on dick
I gotta skits
Meanin' I don't give a
Shit about ya biyatch
That nigga that's from tha Blocc
Killin' up tha cog, so, nigga, shii-it
Baby barbeque ribs and guts and
Ah, don't let me get too deep
Fryin' baby nuts
Sluts get ate out alike
Dank is what crooked teeth heard
I pull the Tampax-string out and
Straight put in work
It wouldn't work without that sick
So page a nigga quick
So I can serve ya some of this
Shit and have ya murderin' ya biyatch
Cause me and Triple-Six grew up
Fuckin' bitches up the gut
With tha 9-millimeter clip
Season of the Sicc, picture this:
Pussy meat ripped in a pan full of
Nuts and guts and intestines and shit
I gets ta chewin' on tha clit
The sick, they just don't understand it
It's so outlandish
Chewin' nigga nuts to cure my fit
The human meat fix
Bitin' 'til the skin rips
That sick nigga, so sick
Livin' dead ever since

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