Season Of Da Sicc Lyrics
| Song | Season Of Da Sicc |
| Artist | Brotha Lynch Hung |
| Album | Season Of Da Siccness |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Hit the dank and took my glock off lock, and off | |
| To the 21st blocc, | |
| I’m rollin in a drop top | |
| Three for zero that black criminal mac mac nigga | |
| That pap! pap! me humming a couple of rounds | |
| And while | |
| I test him, hey **** a | |
| Smith & Wesson | |
| I got my, nine at my chest and | |
| I got my dime bag | |
| Of stress weed, a 40 oz. of | |
| OE and I’m creepin | |
| Up on some niggas in a mob and a nigga claimin | |
| OG, Pap! hit him in that dome and it was that nigga’s worst | |
| Put him on the ground wit a brain, full o’ dem nine slugs | |
| So wrap that nigga up, put him in a hearse | |
| And I’m hittin 50, right around that curb, tight, | |
| Rollin up in a 64, 4 doors sideways to the next light (YOU KNOW) | |
| An I hit that corner of 24 street, some nigga mean mugging | |
| Lynch, and | |
| I pop in a clip and | |
| I’m not finna get got, | |
| I’ma shoot before | |
| I’m shot for the fact | |
| I’m B-U-Double | |
| D-E-D I’m reaching up in my glove box, for the welfare weed | |
| That’s fillin a nigga’s siccness so witness dead bodies | |
| In an, oldsmobile, up on the curb and while | |
| I’m skirtin | |
| Pass the view wit an empty 9 and some bourbon (riiight) | |
| I just adjust to the fact that niggas aint got no hope | |
| I’m fillin em up with 16s, and letting em know | |
| Chorus It’s either that die, or that sickness, and it’s the nigga that nigga that | |
| One you come see, with that 9 millimeter meter watch them 9 millimeter meat | |
| Wikkihdie come, | |
| Wikkihtah come, | |
| Wikkihtah come, | |
| Wikkihtah | |
| E-drop, styling, | |
| If It don’t get you with me nina then me, use 3,18's,pop nigga not mind not know finned to do | |
| Without them gun shell, firing, for* them don’t know me when me high off them doja* killa weed, me take-a me nine millimeter nine, | |
| And me blast them, enemies for den them be dying, cuz of dat siccness then crea...... ..ated by me and them say | |
| Load up that nina* | |
| I’m finna finna go pull | |
| Them boys getting out them nine cut them in half with some of them | |
| Ripgut, quality, for the fundamental cannibalism | |
| Got them black enemy runnin in and when them, | |
| Sickness kick in a million, baby dying, buck! | |
| Hit em with my | |
| G like every day, nigga, | |
| From the creek to the | |
| Garden Blocc, | |
| I was creepin from the double dead red till all the drama stop, | |
| And 50 150 is all that shouldn’t even be on a niggas list | |
| Cuz since for the ****in with | |
| I’ve been crazy times 666 and um, | |
| Niggas cant see my folk when | |
| I dump them .44 slugs all down they throat | |
| It takes one time, all night, to peel your tonsols | |
| From the phone post, you know, | |
| All up in the cut with the real deuce deuce four love | |
| I got But you know that nigga from the creek so peep at what this trigger got | |
| Come follow me sin, come quick cuz | |
| I’m bustin all up on your, blocc | |
| Shakin up yo nuts like dice deuce four in the don’t strike twice | |
| Them gon all go say “oh” about 44 times till so, | |
| Much later than you go, better off dead, but nigga instead | |
| That I let your mama know, she might wanna follow this | |
| Fahlivum shit | |
| Cuz a nigga wont last much longer, with wraps in the cut | |
| Chewin all on your nuts like my nigga | |
| Jeffrey Dahlmer, | |
| Cant load that shit that sickness gets me harder than a corpse | |
| Till I reach for the greeds that nigga start jackin off until it hurts | |
| Swallow my shit so thick this nigga run loccs up on you almost daily | |
| For the digs then | |
| I’m off dick grow soft with lynch | |
| I’m chewin up babies | |
| We gonna stay sicc, for the crazy run em up gospel shit kicks in | |
| It’s the nigga named 6 with the locc to the brain style fix | |
| Eatin up your dead skin | |
| Chorus |
| Hit the dank and took my glock off lock, and off | |
| To the 21st blocc, | |
| I' m rollin in a drop top | |
| Three for zero that black criminal mac mac nigga | |
| That pap! pap! me humming a couple of rounds | |
| And while | |
| I test him, hey a | |
| Smith Wesson | |
| I got my, nine at my chest and | |
| I got my dime bag | |
| Of stress weed, a 40 oz. of | |
| OE and I' m creepin | |
| Up on some niggas in a mob and a nigga claimin | |
| OG, Pap! hit him in that dome and it was that nigga' s worst | |
| Put him on the ground wit a brain, full o' dem nine slugs | |
| So wrap that nigga up, put him in a hearse | |
| And I' m hittin 50, right around that curb, tight, | |
| Rollin up in a 64, 4 doors sideways to the next light YOU KNOW | |
| An I hit that corner of 24 street, some nigga mean mugging | |
| Lynch, and | |
| I pop in a clip and | |
| I' m not finna get got, | |
| I' ma shoot before | |
| I' m shot for the fact | |
| I' m BUDouble | |
| DED I' m reaching up in my glove box, for the welfare weed | |
| That' s fillin a nigga' s siccness so witness dead bodies | |
| In an, oldsmobile, up on the curb and while | |
| I' m skirtin | |
| Pass the view wit an empty 9 and some bourbon riiight | |
| I just adjust to the fact that niggas aint got no hope | |
| I' m fillin em up with 16s, and letting em know | |
| Chorus It' s either that die, or that sickness, and it' s the nigga that nigga that | |
| One you come see, with that 9 millimeter meter watch them 9 millimeter meat | |
| Wikkihdie come, | |
| Wikkihtah come, | |
| Wikkihtah come, | |
| Wikkihtah | |
| Edrop, styling, | |
| If It don' t get you with me nina then me, use 3, 18' s, pop nigga not mind not know finned to do | |
| Without them gun shell, firing, for them don' t know me when me high off them doja killa weed, me takea me nine millimeter nine, | |
| And me blast them, enemies for den them be dying, cuz of dat siccness then crea...... .. ated by me and them say | |
| Load up that nina | |
| I' m finna finna go pull | |
| Them boys getting out them nine cut them in half with some of them | |
| Ripgut, quality, for the fundamental cannibalism | |
| Got them black enemy runnin in and when them, | |
| Sickness kick in a million, baby dying, buck! | |
| Hit em with my | |
| G like every day, nigga, | |
| From the creek to the | |
| Garden Blocc, | |
| I was creepin from the double dead red till all the drama stop, | |
| And 50 150 is all that shouldn' t even be on a niggas list | |
| Cuz since for the in with | |
| I' ve been crazy times 666 and um, | |
| Niggas cant see my folk when | |
| I dump them . 44 slugs all down they throat | |
| It takes one time, all night, to peel your tonsols | |
| From the phone post, you know, | |
| All up in the cut with the real deuce deuce four love | |
| I got But you know that nigga from the creek so peep at what this trigger got | |
| Come follow me sin, come quick cuz | |
| I' m bustin all up on your, blocc | |
| Shakin up yo nuts like dice deuce four in the don' t strike twice | |
| Them gon all go say " oh" about 44 times till so, | |
| Much later than you go, better off dead, but nigga instead | |
| That I let your mama know, she might wanna follow this | |
| Fahlivum shit | |
| Cuz a nigga wont last much longer, with wraps in the cut | |
| Chewin all on your nuts like my nigga | |
| Jeffrey Dahlmer, | |
| Cant load that shit that sickness gets me harder than a corpse | |
| Till I reach for the greeds that nigga start jackin off until it hurts | |
| Swallow my shit so thick this nigga run loccs up on you almost daily | |
| For the digs then | |
| I' m off dick grow soft with lynch | |
| I' m chewin up babies | |
| We gonna stay sicc, for the crazy run em up gospel shit kicks in | |
| It' s the nigga named 6 with the locc to the brain style fix | |
| Eatin up your dead skin | |
| Chorus |
| Hit the dank and took my glock off lock, and off | |
| To the 21st blocc, | |
| I' m rollin in a drop top | |
| Three for zero that black criminal mac mac nigga | |
| That pap! pap! me humming a couple of rounds | |
| And while | |
| I test him, hey a | |
| Smith Wesson | |
| I got my, nine at my chest and | |
| I got my dime bag | |
| Of stress weed, a 40 oz. of | |
| OE and I' m creepin | |
| Up on some niggas in a mob and a nigga claimin | |
| OG, Pap! hit him in that dome and it was that nigga' s worst | |
| Put him on the ground wit a brain, full o' dem nine slugs | |
| So wrap that nigga up, put him in a hearse | |
| And I' m hittin 50, right around that curb, tight, | |
| Rollin up in a 64, 4 doors sideways to the next light YOU KNOW | |
| An I hit that corner of 24 street, some nigga mean mugging | |
| Lynch, and | |
| I pop in a clip and | |
| I' m not finna get got, | |
| I' ma shoot before | |
| I' m shot for the fact | |
| I' m BUDouble | |
| DED I' m reaching up in my glove box, for the welfare weed | |
| That' s fillin a nigga' s siccness so witness dead bodies | |
| In an, oldsmobile, up on the curb and while | |
| I' m skirtin | |
| Pass the view wit an empty 9 and some bourbon riiight | |
| I just adjust to the fact that niggas aint got no hope | |
| I' m fillin em up with 16s, and letting em know | |
| Chorus It' s either that die, or that sickness, and it' s the nigga that nigga that | |
| One you come see, with that 9 millimeter meter watch them 9 millimeter meat | |
| Wikkihdie come, | |
| Wikkihtah come, | |
| Wikkihtah come, | |
| Wikkihtah | |
| Edrop, styling, | |
| If It don' t get you with me nina then me, use 3, 18' s, pop nigga not mind not know finned to do | |
| Without them gun shell, firing, for them don' t know me when me high off them doja killa weed, me takea me nine millimeter nine, | |
| And me blast them, enemies for den them be dying, cuz of dat siccness then crea...... .. ated by me and them say | |
| Load up that nina | |
| I' m finna finna go pull | |
| Them boys getting out them nine cut them in half with some of them | |
| Ripgut, quality, for the fundamental cannibalism | |
| Got them black enemy runnin in and when them, | |
| Sickness kick in a million, baby dying, buck! | |
| Hit em with my | |
| G like every day, nigga, | |
| From the creek to the | |
| Garden Blocc, | |
| I was creepin from the double dead red till all the drama stop, | |
| And 50 150 is all that shouldn' t even be on a niggas list | |
| Cuz since for the in with | |
| I' ve been crazy times 666 and um, | |
| Niggas cant see my folk when | |
| I dump them . 44 slugs all down they throat | |
| It takes one time, all night, to peel your tonsols | |
| From the phone post, you know, | |
| All up in the cut with the real deuce deuce four love | |
| I got But you know that nigga from the creek so peep at what this trigger got | |
| Come follow me sin, come quick cuz | |
| I' m bustin all up on your, blocc | |
| Shakin up yo nuts like dice deuce four in the don' t strike twice | |
| Them gon all go say " oh" about 44 times till so, | |
| Much later than you go, better off dead, but nigga instead | |
| That I let your mama know, she might wanna follow this | |
| Fahlivum shit | |
| Cuz a nigga wont last much longer, with wraps in the cut | |
| Chewin all on your nuts like my nigga | |
| Jeffrey Dahlmer, | |
| Cant load that shit that sickness gets me harder than a corpse | |
| Till I reach for the greeds that nigga start jackin off until it hurts | |
| Swallow my shit so thick this nigga run loccs up on you almost daily | |
| For the digs then | |
| I' m off dick grow soft with lynch | |
| I' m chewin up babies | |
| We gonna stay sicc, for the crazy run em up gospel shit kicks in | |
| It' s the nigga named 6 with the locc to the brain style fix | |
| Eatin up your dead skin | |
| Chorus |
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