Songtext zu 'Da Lynchin'' von Merry Clayton

Shiiit, right back at cha'll again
(right back at cha'll)
This the one they call whody
(Stop saying whody and say Sporty(Records) boy
Shit ain't nothin' change like I told y'all anything you make
can and will be flipped against ya' you be exhibit three coming for me(like I
told ya'll be a man about it)
(like I do, I said ya' name boy, I said it)
Uptown section of the newspaper
Downtown as well
T-bone on the track
We raising hell

Chorus(Repeats)
{You got rope round' ya' neck(two rope sounds)
Duck Tape on ya wrist(tape stretching sounds)
Pistol whips to ya' skull(get em' get em')
Now here come my pist(pissing sound)}

Verse 1:
You tried *Guerilla Warfare*
Now try this killer wheel chair
Punk ya' hear?,Still there?
You get drilled and killed there
I gives a fuck about you bitches
Y'all just hot cause i'm cold
Look I been talking to you bitches
Ain't saw you on the street so
Juvenile I know ya'
B.G. don't make me come show ya'
I'd like to bling Lil' Wayne
I'd like to sting with rain
Bitch ya'll thank I can't prove it
Set the date and lets do it
Set cha' stage on fire and watch the wet boys run threw it
See Reggie be bustin' heads, Gansta bout busting heads,
K.C. be bustin' heads, Juvey be sucking heads
B.Geezy B.G. you's a junkie fo-sheezy
Boy ya' lips stay swole, black, sleezy and greasy
All that muthafuckin' reppin' on ganster murder weapon
You pimp ya whole fuckin' label, but ahh quiet as kept in
I got nothing but love for ya' baby
The way ya pimping ya artist through that dope got em' crazy
Yeah you sold dope all ya' life
Got pop, flip the script, started ratting thats trife

Chorus

Verse : 2

I can ganks and make a million
And P, but cha'll reppin' his muthafuckin' business in the streets
I don't hate cha' Baby it ain't that critical
I just flip ya' artist cause they pitiful
Junkies what they are
Drivin' nothin' but jive cars
Real soldiers behind bars
Wont say ya' name but they are
You like to rap' all day'
But bring ya' beef my way
You like to gamble? you was real?
Yo' Rolex, my cable bill
Up here nigga lets bet
I want even break a sweat
I'mma take ya' rolex the first round
Hot Boys gon' slip and get wet
Wan' say I'm thuggin' when I wasn't
Sayin' I got it when I doesn't
Look to me thats not helping
Claiming you rich when you not wealthy
Get cha' mind right Lil' Wayne
B.G. leave that shit alone
Pull ya' pants up on ya' ass and carry ya' young ass home
I'mma say it one more time
Bitch you gets no love
(Junkies is what junkies does)(distorted voice)
Boy I catch cha' slippin' i'mma beat cha' like a hoe
Have yo' friends peepin' that set in the metro
Girl that juvenile, you ain't know it he was on fire
Sporty done pressure-washed em', knocked black magic off his tires
Rest of y'all steal a car and come ride through my hood
So I can clean ya' Dirty World and super soak ya' goods
B. Geezy what chu' say you can't wait to see lil' L.Teeezy
Its a must I keep it real, you got that look thats easy
It's a dirty world and you bitches loosing
You can't do nothing about it cause i'mma keep you loosing
You can't make good songs cause i'mma do you wrong
I take ya' hit flip ya' shit and make my pockets strong
It's a dirty world and you bitches loosing
You can't do nothing about it cause i'mma keep ya' loosing
You can't make good songs, cause i'mma do ya' wrong
I take ya' hit flip ya' shit and make ya' move on
Yeah I see yo ass ridin' dirty up my block
But if you stop you get drop with the glock off top
I see you roll in yo compressor
I snatch that ass hot boys one lesser
I see you roll in yo compressor
I snatch that ass hot boys one lesser
Yes brah'

Chorus