Split Yo Face feat. Triple Beam
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Lyrics
(Brotha Lynch Hung)
Hit the corner of 24th St finished up a sac of nitro an on bomb
my face was split
Felt like I had pumps in the trunk wit hittin hogs sittin in my lap
wit the fat dump
Saw the homie Crunk dogg sittin' in the fog smashed thru the
Southside lit it's in tha cut 2 inch wide with gold tips split ya to
the side can I get a
Somewhere I don't care give me the green so I can lean with
the machine out the window if it comes to that
Cuzz I'm sicc an you a victim comin up in a black Cadillac
to the side saw the homie big Steve, told me some thangs I
couldn't believe
Oh folks what you got up your sleeve, he gave me that look like
don't worry bout me
Well I'm a smash I got a little bit of cash, I need stash an I need
somethin' fast
Somewhere safe cuzz I notice hate an I don't wanna use my 38
On the Southside we fulla ridas do or die most of hos are
providers for ridas if they don't they die it's like clockwork
I'm servin' heaters an puttin' holes on ya t shirt
It's like all day everyday straight straight lit(Crip)
An all they say is I'm siccer than sicc wit my grip tight like a vice
grip if they trip I'mma come from the hip wit the hollow tip
Leavin' em dead an dipped thru the backstreets
To in the head an fled like a track meet
One time's an K9's they couldn't track me
Not even the fat saccs in the back seat
Split ya face
Split ya face
An have wit this endo
ร4
(Triple Beam)
That nigga Lynch brought one mo pound to smoke but I got
one mo blunt to choke
Pass me the chronic quick take a toke
42nd st bomb ain't no joke
Will have you at the crib one hit will get ya dome split
An have a nigga lookin' like he on shit
Eyes runnin thru the sky when I walk by
Reminiscing bout my momma but I can't cry
God why is my life in this twilight chief of the liquor
Old English Miller highlight mixed wit the chronic
Gonna keep a niggas high nice
(D-Dubb)
Layin' in the casket now look who's assed out
50 bomb got me blown lost in flow
Lookin like he got a head cone
Crush the weed an smoke it up wit the cup
Nigga what you wanna do is straight slump
Split ya face
Split ya face
An have wit this endo
ร4
(Triple Beam)
Nigga I can't breathe this endo got my mind at ease
Got me sprung on the sticky green leaves like geez
never seen no saccs like these I thought you were the Mack like these
Get ya money back from 2 blunts an come match with me
That's why these ho's that are high be attached to me
Who blows more smoke than a factory
An that's probably why your baby daddy after me
But I ain't hard to find you can catch me off in the wind getting
blow back an everybody know that I've been posted on the
track representing cold Macs way back when mothafuckaz
smokin gold saccs
Some game from them old cats they told me money is power
So get ya paper shake them haters an them broke ho's
Buck up for weeks some drank some gold up some new clothes
It ain't my fault nigga that's just way the game goes
Split ya face
Split ya face
An have wit this endo
ร4
(D-Dubb)
Stuck an listening to too much at a red light, shit ain't right
My nigga died over bull shit I need a full clip of bomb sacc
so I can lay back thinking about my nigga Jake on playback
How we use to smoke blunts an servin' 50 on the pump
Actin' bad at the club tires spinnin' sayin' whaaaat
In to win it with a pocket full of cash going half on the
Hennessey remember me
I told my nigga all money ain't good money duckin' for nothin'
Body luke warm clutchin' his tummy final thoughts to family
friends eyes get bloody thought it would never be
This way
Crooked ass cops took my niggaz life away
Fuck that shit we ain't gonna let it ride.
Rest in peace my nigga this one's for you