Welcome to Your Own Death Brotha Lynch Hung

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As I bail through the woods of the southside
Terrors on nine milli chrome kill alone cause I trust no snitch
When I peel a dome and bail
Gone like hell right through the do
I'm rollin' a fat sack of red boogy boo, nigga ooh
Watch me bail nigga but you don't see me though
Cause I'm rollin' fat sacks in the back of my vehicle
But takin' a puff of the dank stuff
And enough that double O-A-E dooz me
I'm slowly loadin' up the oozy
Well now who's he
Well it's that dead motherf**ker doe
Well whatcha know comin' through with that murder mo
And I heard you know now whose been bustin' up on the garden block
You either give up the information
Nigga I get shots, so nigga nah WHAT!
I guess you wanna dose of this milla
Twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa
Nigga mack hustla, cap busta, infact I'm just a mack ten
Bustin' em at your chin before I crept nigga
Welcome to your own death

Chorus x6
Nigga welcome to your own death

(BUCK! For them who don't know bout loc to da brain
Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game) x2