Brotha Lynch Hung Welcome To Your Own Death Lyrics

Welcome To 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