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C-Bo and Brother Lynch - There it Is

на свой мобильный!
Отправь SMS с текстом 55788-102-24131 на номер 5537.

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This song is dedicated to the niggas that be bumpin gums and talkin shit
behind a nigga back knowing I can`t defend myself.
If you trippin, oh if you trippin then it must be you I`m talkin bout.
And if it ain`t you ... don`t trip

[Brother Lynch]
Drop niggas like bad habits that`s the truth
Mutha fuckas be runnin around actin like they bullet proof
How could I trust you when you couldn`t bust two slugs for me?
Talkin bout you thug homie you really ain`t got no love for me
Anyway what you do for me? ... Nuttin
You won`t let the 45 keep buckin what you talkin bout in yo stuff?
You don`t live no where near gangsta street
And if I wanted to I could take out some of yo teeth
And for the rest of my life have beef and you know what I do with meat
Known to cheat, creep from the back in the Cadillac Seville
Pull out the strap and the tack to peel
And if it don`t happen I`m keep doin music and talkin shit about you
Never even mention yo name, cuzz it`ll all come out you a bitch ass nigga
You live yo life all secluded, if I wasn`t around you wouldn`t do shit
Talkin bout you jack niggas, put him in the back wit a blue rag around they snuggle
Used to have a huddle of Sicc Made Niggas now it`s only me to rumble
Eat em up like gumbo don`t trip how could I know?
I was so comfortable you took advantage of the whole
Situation all that shit you makin it was cuz of me
We was cool for all those years but I was blind and couldn`t see

[Chorus]
There it is ... another nigga went ballistic on me
Couldn`t have is way so I guess he turned his back on me
And if he didn`t I`m just tired of shit
I`d rather do it on my own do it all alone he was dipped [2x]

[Brother Lynch]
This some fake nigga pain
How could I of knew it fat supply of liquor fluid
And some green leaves that stank up the whole house
That`s how we had it everyday
Make sure my niggas was drunk and high in every way
3 o`clock in the morin comin home drunk and fall out
I didn`t give a fuck it was my homies I went all out
Then I found out most of em fake like Van Damme
They knew about the game but couldn`t break a damn can
With hollow tips in they hands I juked em like a crack sack
Made em feel hella bad made sure they never comin back
They showed me too much shit I couldn`t take it couldn`t make it
Another year dealin with all this fake shit
Nigga yeah ... and nigga I`m tired of you spyin on me
Kickin it with that other mutha fucka that be lyin on me
Why homie? I thought me and you was untouchable
You be tellin everybody what you know, so bye homie

There it is ... another nigga went ballistic on me
Didn`t think I loved him so I guess he turned his back on me
And if he didn`t I`m just tired of shit
I`d rather do it on my own do it alone he was dipped [x2]

[Brother Lynch]
In some weak nigga sauce, the kind you put on spagetti
I`m a kick back nigga but I`m armed and deadly
And I`m shootin them gangsta medleys to yo heart and soul
Known to put a mini mack in a nap sack and get off the yack and kill a CEO
Then you can see me smoke circles out yo neighborhood
With a tar can in my lap 20 pack and a 50 sack
Metal to metal then he won`t settle til you in that wood
I can`t help it that`s how it is I may run up in yo crib and get yo kids
You know I could, you couldn`t touch me with a silencer form long range
I tried to do all I could but you think it`s all game
Sit at home drunk and judge niggas
You remind me of my uncle of always havin a grudge, nigga
Ain`t nuttin gon` happen that ain`t suppose to happen
Appse to rappin I close the gap in
I hit that ass with a mini mack, closed captions
Cuz I`m a MVP, Maximin Violence Profector
And if you fuck wit me, fuck you in the ass with the weapon
Grew up in the GBC, a hood where niggas really don`t give a fuck
Smash pass the one-time hittin blunts
Smoke the whole parkin lot up
And you already knew that about me nigga what`s yo problem?
Bumpin them gums like you Green Goblin we gon` be squabblin

[Chorus 4x]

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