Brotha Lynch Hung, Sicx, Swartzaniggaz - Mr. No Print lyrics

Yeah... luchini, Swartzanigga, haha
That's why you gonna die
C.O.S., Northgate, my nigga Fig
Tall Cann G, Capone
I'm that nigga Sicx

Ain't nathin funny about this money
I'm tryin to make
Straight broke
So everything I take serious cause
4-25 ain't no fuckin joke
An everyday struggle
Puttin down this hustle's harder
That it looks
But the mo' dirt
That I do the mo' these niggas
Hooked on bein a crook
Skrillas my major concern I'm burnin
Just to get a sniff
Of that scratch
But the catcher can't see me
So I'll be ski'n
With my mask on; ski money gets my blast on
In a major way
So my paper stays stacked
Way back behind some boxes
In that alleyway that nigga in
Killa Cali stay real
Automatically kill
Without no feelings still gets dirty
Then I'm that-a-way
Clockin mo' luchi than John Belushi
Made from Blues Brothers so choose
Your mother's funeral dress
Then feel my Smif & Wes
Shiftin through you vest
Rippin up your chest
Pickin up the rest cause when I does
My dirt won't leave a mess
All by my lonesome most of them [?]
Blocks stay hot like rock spots
With one-time posin on each block
I want G-knots, so I eavesdrops, on C-spots
Then I'm out with 5-0 never
Knowin about my caper
At home countin up that paper
Can't wait to, go robbin through your hood
Mr. Invisible's only concern is, to get his
When I get caught with them residuals nigga

So call me Mr. No Prints
I never leaves a clue
In and out the cut 'fore
You know who gettin who
Mysteries Unsolved
That's why you never seen
The one that they call Sicx
On yo' late night TV screen
Call me Mr. No Prints, I never leaves a trace
In and out the cut with a ski-mask on my face
25 to life, that's not on my agenda
That's why I'm in and out before
You have time to remember

I let your blood spill
Then chase the murder with some 8-ball
And never leave a trace
I'm in and up outta the cut soon as you fall
Leave blood all over the walls
Cause my massive blows to the dome
From the .44 chrome that was shown
But it ain't no case cause
The bodies all gone
In the trunk of the Chev'
About to get thrown up off the lid
Cause whoever in the crib won't live
When I kick through yo' door with some
O.J. gloves hold onto my .44
So call me Mr. No Prints -
Cause I never leave no evidence
I kill off all the witnesses
Then I vacate the premises
Shit, that's just another residence
Victim of them killas
Gettin hit up by that [?] Swartzanigga shit
Don't make me spill yo' blood
And I'm hittin the bud as soon as
I see them brains go split-splat
See niggas and bitches get left for dead
And alla they kids get kidnapped
Put a fresh [?] cause we planned and plotted
Premeditated then waited for the right
Time then we got 'em
Shot through the do'
With the flag, hockey ski-mask on my face
Cuz see
I just don't give a fuck as long as
They can't see us make our escape
And that's just in case
By some slim chance we leave someone alive
That's why we in and up outta the cut
So fast they can't identify at all
Gettin high - count up our
Dollars and our sins
Thinkin about how easy it is to murder
Like this and leave no prints
Nigga

So call me Mr. No Prints
I never leaves a clue
In and out the cut 'fore
You know who gettin who
Mysteries Unsolved
That's why you never seen
The one that they call C.O.S.
On your TV screen
Call me Mr. No Prints, I never leaves a trace
In and out the cut with a ski-mask on my face
25 to life, that's not on my agenda
That's why I'm in and out before
You have time to remember

Call me Mr. 211 a.k.a. jack-yo-ass, 187 blast
Hit a nigga like stick'n'move
Then dash on that ass
Gettin away, wit a ski-mask on my face
If there ain't no description then
There ain't no fuckin case
Fin' ta hit your block tight
With my Glock hidden up under my seat
Let it pop 'til you drop
'til you dead up in the street
Guts and meats all over the concrete
Ain't no time to sleep
Upon this nigga with this trigger love
To swig that malt liquor
Cause I'm sick with that Olde English shit
Heads gon' split
Black chrome spit
'til you layin up in a ditch
So fuck your whole click
Fill 'em up with them 16 slugs
Kill 'em up with that Siccness
Love - do or die
Who the fuck am I? - Tall Cann
21st meet your worst nightmare
Leave 'em right there
Bloody up in the mud
Cause this nigga ain't got no love
Wear my gloves
Cause I'm bouts to gets my hands dirty
Guts all over the place
Face ready for plastic surgery
Never showin no mercy
In a hurry to do my dirt, then I'm out
Put my strap deep in yo' mouth
Try to take yo' tonsils out
So watch for the ricochet
For my niggas they dumpin
With no clue where they comin from punk
Then I'm out your block with an empty Glock
Y'all niggas knowin nothin

So call me Mr. No Prints
I never leaves a clue
In and out the cut 'fore
You know who gettin who
Mysteries Unsolved
That's why you never seen
The nigga Tall Cann on that
Late night TV screen
Call me Mr. No Prints, I never leaves a trace
In and out the cut with a ski-mask on my face
25 to life, that's not on my agenda
That's why I'm in and out before
You have time to remember