Went Way Brotha Lynch Hung

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[Verse 1]
Two years ago, a friend of mine
Told me to write me a tight ass rhyme
And so I, I wrote this rhyme that I'm about to say
The rhyme was tight and it went this way
Now on my briefcase was some crumbled weed
Shiesty niggas keep staring at me
I had my 4-5 and my 4-4
I put one on my briefcase so them niggas'll know
Lives could get took, that's it, just like a book
Leave you on a meat hook
Smoke a fat blunt on my couch wit my feet up while you get took
For yo' skrill, hundred dollar bill
Take yo' pill, muthafucca
While you bullshittin', this shit is real
I ain't no twelve-inch, can't mix me up in this bullshit
I got full clips, and alone, I do my shit
So trust me, your information's faulty
And i wouldn't eat you 'cause your meat's too salty
I'd rather, step through a fire ring with some gasoline draws than fucc wit' you
'Cause you the type of nigga that'll tell 'em everything you saw
Wit' my, big bad 40 auto mag, twenty sacc, nigga
Get your money bacc if you don't think you off that cridnacc
Motivated, totally undominated
I got that siccness and the remedy, my momma made it
Easy for me, I didn't have to work
Fourteen-years-old, in the bacc drinkin' OE like her