Brotha Lynch Hung, First Degree The D.E., Don Rob, Lauren Brinson, Devious - Suicide Watch lyrics

Suicide watch

Yeah, I'm in a all black khaki suit
In an all black room feeling like I'm
In the back of the room
And I'm strapped to something that's
Like, out of a movie
That's cool. Kill like I'm
In a Dracula movie
That's too practical
Did a tactical movement
Next thing you know I was
Loose and I was moving
Brotha Lynch Hung go through the jungle
Wit' a machete and I hunt those
Then I cut throat
I don't know what's happening
Maybe I'm blacking out
Killing everybody in sight then smashing out
Murder date nigga go head ask 'em out
Coathanga Strangla nigga ask about him
Like J-Lo.... Oh ass is out
Anybody will tell ya' that
Nigga's a acid mouth
I will never lose
I'm cruising past your house
I'mma start chewing his meat if
He's as I'm out?
Hit me wit the .50 - get your brains blasted
Carry me a Billy the Kid and that's plastic
Buried nigga
Hid in the crib, and that's-that's it
I be on some dumping the
Dead niggas in caskets
Do it for the bi-bi uh chop chop
Do it for the bitches
Tch-tch-tch, slash em'
I get all up in a nigga head, aspirin
I could get a nigga shot in the head
Ask 'em
Orville Redenbacher, nigga I'll pop ya'
Tore his head like cotton, go need the doctor
Call the coroner, leavin' him in a corner
Called his boys up
They gon' be looking for him
Put these toys up, disappear in the morning
Eat these boys up, it was a little boring
Shit his prime guts, I'm nuts, I'm sick
I must consider Your Highness, bitch

Suicide watch

Yeah boy, got my mind on the milli
Hand gripped tight on the milla
Finger on the trigga'
And you fucking wit' a straight guerilla
Dominate the enemy tremendously
And leave em' wit' his face on the pillow
Reppin' MadeSicc nigga
They don't really want it
If you want it come get it
Come wit' it I'm a spit it
From the start to the finish
Wit' no fault or pretending
Hit all in yo' mouth like a dentist
(Is it the siccness!?)
They got a nigga all in it to win it
Busta better pardon my Cripness'
Put you on my hit list
And just bring a witness to the
Lyrical massacre of these bitches
Played a part in inventing this
Cut, slice, dice, chop, beef scrambled
Up, test and cook syrup
Nigga, 'cause I'm a hit em' wit'
Right, left, punch, uppercut, then
Throw pronouns and verbs
And many other words, I'm like a Thunderbird
I mean a Thundercat
That's just the way I act
I put em' on their back
And that's a known fact
I leave their motherfucking sound
And their line flat
You wanna habitat, where them G's at?
I flip it like a mat and
Light it like a match
Freddy Krueger Luda, wit' a Ruger on his lap
Poom, pang, ping, kill a dream like that
So where my niggas
Yo? And where the bitches go?
We paint a pretty picture from
The ceiling to the flo'
We tear the club up
Been done fucked the streets though
If you really want it all you
Gotta' do is let me know
You fucking wit' my brotha Lynch
I'm busting Calicos *gunshot*
I creep up on you
You don't wanna give you mo'
Hotter than the sun, colder than an Eskimo
Blap at 'em wit' the 4"
And have 'em yelling Geronimo!

Suicide watch