top 100
·
top new
·
updates
·
submit lyrics
#
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
O
P
Q
R
S
T
U
V
W
X
Y
Z
Correct The Corpse Came To Dinner Lyrics
Lyrics
►
Artists: B
►
Brotha Lynch Hung
►
Correct The Corpse Came To Dinner
Artist:
Song:
Comment:
Lyrics:
[Verse:] It's a must that I bust any strap ya hand ta me It's inherited, it runs in the family Niggaz in the town got pounds of beef Threaten a niggaz life, make it sound so sweet I peel 'em back like corn-on-the-cob, cap peel 'em Make 'em sound like a whore on the job Witta Mac in the backpack, fulla that crack sack Gettin' it off (Better have my muthafuckin money) Bitch where my siccmade 'til I die shit, nobody saw So I was able ta wipe the blood off the hallway walls Ain't got nothin ta live for Can't even trust a bitch, might have ta leave her alone Ma had ta dig a ditch, shit so rigorous Dealin' wit hataz, snitchaz, and bitchaz, get they brains gone Find a new home, you one life is gone Cuz I'm O-One, check the clock And if these walls could talk, muthafuckaz'll be shot I'm about ta go 51-50, got nobody wit me Stressed out like Whitney, Bobby Brown, weed and whiskey Smokin' Newports, no support But like Too Short I keep it goin' Shootin' up forts, who in this sport wanna fuck wit me Come on the court, rippin' out insides Puttin' stains on thangs, that's when I rip-ride And I slip-slide through the Gardens witta bloody t-shirt, it won't hurt Look at this way, 6 feet deep in the dirt won't hurt Flirtin' wit murda, I leave 'em unheard of And I'm sicca than period pads drippin' All over your hands gettin' The back seat or the trunk, it's your choice Dead or alive, smothered and fried The way you better uncover your eyes, I'm in the skies Witta 9 tryin' ta take out your spine Nobody know crime, throw up that sicc sign And strike hard like stricc-nine No recovery, you other G niggaz betta duck Leave you in the tuc stuck Psycho, off the wall like Michael Always paranoid cuz I be blowin' out that nitro All day, every day, murda spray, got you in Glad Bags Headed for the pad, and you can ask my dad I was a scavenger, 14 years old eatin' scabs Graduated ta nigga meat, but I don't wanna brag Fuck Jeffry Dohmer, he a muthafuckin fag I got nigga nuts and guts in the bag, draggin' 'em ta the pad [Chorus:] (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask [Verse 2:] Fuck under the influence, I'm hella fucked up Swervin' down the freeway, spillin' my cup Tryin' take you out this rap on the Underbelly He ain't shit, he 'bout ta be in the trunk smelly By me and my Relly, you never know Whatever tho, I got auto magazines and that weak intro What you got against me? Don't you know I rip niggaz up, turn 'em ta minced meat Well if you got some sense, beat it, like raw eggs I used ta have hella homies, now they all hate But I'ma leave it alone, I'm on my own like a voodoo nigga If a nigga want ta get ate, what would you do nigga I was too cool wit 'em, group of niggaz and they tripped on me Gave 'em a little bit of fame, then they dipped on me But you know, it's all in the game, tell the crip homie Ta hit 'em witta slug in the brain, that's what you get from me Crash dummy, your careers defected And you ain't sold a record last time I checked it You just keep knockin', I feel disrespected Now your neck got disconnected by the Lynch Hung necklace Hey, I leave 'em red, and I don't eat the head Let the Tec spit and chop niggaz down ta the ground like Judge Dread Come up in the door lookin' just like a fed And you call yourself a rap vet Get out the bed, and let me fuck her like she should be fucked All in the butt, wit the 9 milly, swallowin' nut And you see me in black clothes, creepin' from the back Don't know how ta act, black blankets fulla Mac's I use 'em for nutsacks and full body sacks Better not let your daughter out, end up in the slaughter house Chokin' and spittin', chest open and bleedin' And me fuckin' her from the back, and I hope for you ta see it [Chorus:] (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask (Corpse came ta dinner) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask (Hey Folks, open the door nigga) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask (Nah, nah, open the trunk) Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask Ziplock, body-bag, toe-tag, wet t-shirt, black mask
add rows