Sicc & High Lyrics

[Brotha Lynch Hung]
Yeah man, ya know, I was trying to tell you nigga man
That nigga was trippin out man. I did all kinds of shit
For him and shit, and I help that nigga outa bad situations, you know?
Cuz was trippin man, I was like man
Still was talking shit nigga, dirty ass songs about me and shit, you know
Man, so I gotta hit him back:

Nigga you tha, king of comedy
And Ima be g thatz what Ima be
Let you see that shit at close range
When I tap you with the bang, wrap you up in cellophane
That'll be the endin, no pretendin
Siccmade and high side ¿crash?, do a drive by wide em
Do or die by which in em, get in em, any time, any where
Cut through the lane like Chris Webber
Better get it together nigga, I toughen up your leather with a
Touch, shoot you in the neck, get my respect, you muthaf*ckin bet
Might as well not sweat when I put these flames to your set
And leave you, smokey like robinson
My oozie weigh 24 tons, and I got them
Niggas on rum in em, and those 221Â's, you getted this done
Thats why I pack my gun
Cause when you tappin into this gangsta shit you gotta pack yo gun
Some niggas gon shoot, some niggas gon run
Its all mathematical, ¿bet off and get tragical?
Holding out the cadillac roam with the metal thangs
To do that ghetto thang, you know, cellophane
To hit them pedal thangs
Smash off in the cup where you get that ¿hedikane?
You watch that medic bring, black bags and gloves
I gotta be thug (why?), I made that decision a long time ago
Drinkin 40Â's in ¿plash? dominoes
Goin through drama with hoes, you know how it goes
I ain't been doin no shows, ain't been steppin on no toes
But the p11 9mm ruben (whatÂ's that?), is the weapon I chose I donÂ't need much cause Im clutch like shaq diesel
And I love the way the ruben make dead people
Catch em comin out the church steeple
Cause he did my people
You know, paybacks to the first degree
And Im cript walkin to my funeral, so it ain't no hearsin me

[A-Blocc]
Bouncin off to the turf, this is A-Blocc
Im posted pushin ¿yayrocks?, to see right through these niggas character
They blasted like the Glock, neighborhood watch keeps lookin
But I keep jookin, shit I know where Pablo gots his birdies cookin
I probably crook em
See the plots to get richer quicker, make my feddy thicker
Perkin off the finest liquors, pass pen, triggas get clutched
I get my bucks man, MOB, thats money over bitches
Six straight rags with switches, got the feds takin pictures
Half heart half dope, invested my ism, is some pimp, heÂ's upset with a hoe
And made her hump till my pockets got the mumps like ¿gody?
Ask the little bitch, she said, “oh heÂ's a f*ckin cody.”
So D, pistols everything from fake IDÂ's
I put hoes in shady niggas, left them eatin through our piece
Roll dese through the ghetto, vogues smoked like indo
High speed chases throwin choppers out the window
IÂ'm wanted by the task, and bitch ass niggas gun blast
And all I ever wanted was the cash
Shit its like IÂ'm hunted but I still get blunted rollin through the set
Ima do my thing for now though, cause they ain't killed me yet
And if I die then I die, shit, donÂ't even shed a tear
IÂ'm better off where IÂ'm goin man, cause I ain't happy here
Got no fear, shit, them niggas bruise like I bruise
Lose ¿screws? like I do, nigga, choose how you choose nigga, ooh!

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