Brotha Lynch Hung Welcome 2 Your Own Death Lyrics

Welcome 2 Your Own Death Lyrics

As I bail through the woods of the southside

 Terrors on nine milli chrome kill alone cause I trust no snitch

 When I peel a dome and bail

 Gone like hell right through the do

 I'm rollin' a fat sack of red boogy boo, nigga ooh

 Watch me bail nigga but you don't see me though

 Cause I'm rollin' fat sacks in the back of my vehicle

 But takin' a puff of the dank stuff 

 and enough that double O-A-E dooz me

 I'm slowly loadin' up the oozy

 Well now who's he

 Well it's that dead motherfucker doe

 Well whatcha know comin' through with that murder mo

 And I heard you know now whose been bustin' up on the garden block

 You either give up the information, 

 nigga I get shots, so nigga nah WHAT!

 I guess you wanna dose of this milla

 Twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa

 Nigga mack hustla, cap busta, infact I'm just a mack ten

 Bustin' em at your chin before I crept nigga

 Welcome to your own death

 

 Chorus x6

 Nigga welcome to your own death

 

 (BUCK! For them who don't know bout loc to da brain

 Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game) x2

 

 So niggas miss my sicc

 Some niggas don't know me, niggas don't know my click

 That O-loc-double-C-O-G  rip gut canibal type of shit

 Plus many more caps bust

 Anymore sacks to roll up, we need that high back

 So niggas done load them nins and pull them high jacks

 And lie back in the cut and roll another fat one up

 Tack one up for loc to the brain

 Them niggas that really don't give a fuck

 Around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut

 So nigga now whatcha gon do with a mini mack ten ten at yo gut

 Plus niggas nuts and guts is what I rips for

 Creepin' up in a six four impala

 Mobbin' a loots all up to make you vomit from the raw gut cause

 Nah what I do is let my nine do the talkin'

 Leavin' you walkin' to your funeral low

 Diggin'? yo smoke from the mack 1-0

 I had ya pussin' just in case

 I got me a mack eleven for your face that's leavin' no trace

 Caps leavin' a gate and puttin' holes in a niggas neck

 So watch the reeper when I creep crept

 Welcome to your own death

 

 Chorus x6

 

 When I hit the block with a nine

 Them fools better be duckin'

 My nigga duck got out the car and started buckin' at niggas runnin' 

 untraceable gage shells

 Only worriers goin' to hell

 And 5-0 they just can't swoop

 See cause we mobbin' too well

 My murder file done pile more than a nigga expected

 See cause have of the city of Sac still ain't accepted

 That I'm a pack and when I'm sweated I'ma put in work

 Cause my O-T told me why Jesus got to kick up some dirt

 And I'm tired of warnin' a motherfucker about a nigga like me

 When it's hard to believe 

 the nine millimeter comin' out my pants gonna make you dance

 See that's the city and it's making a motherfucker stress

 Gotta watch your back like 24-7 

 unless you wanna be livin' the rest of your life

 Up in a cemetery die nigga die you'll repeat until you're buried

 That nine millimeter givin' no motherfuckin' respect

 Up on your back with your last breathe

 Welcome to your own death

 

 Chorus x6