Drunken Style Brotha Lynch Hung

Drunken style nigga ... drunk style
Give me yo clothes, give me your gold
Give me all the money you owe right now

[Brother Lynch]
Don't like to think so I drank heavy
Dump slugs out the Chevy, livin armed and deadly
I'm takin chunks from punks who want funk
Treat em like 15's, put em in the trunk
I split his spleens, makin sure all my shits clean
Leave the scene like a wolverine with a gleam and a scheme, gangsta lean...
Out the window, hit yo block corner, everybody better duck
Burnin tires like the Daytona, tuck you up, it ain't nuttin
Pushin buttons, blowin smoke at them bustas
See I was just a baby when I first got Sicc
Get the razorblades and alcohol, I'm bout to fill they walls with syphilis dick
Just get my kicks, tricks get chopped up like a cold cut
Heat em up, flops get rocked up like that coke stuff
I ain't no jokester, prankster, real gangster...
Shit from that nigga that brought you the Season of the Sicc
Admit, it was my tightest shit besides this
Don't get me wrong, every song is a hit
Guess who made this?...
Phonk Beta, while you suckers ain't payin right, we stayin tight
Pullin open ziplocks every night and my mama never fed me right
We was broke so I'm off the Ol' E, you know me I ain't no mutha fuckin joke
When it come to rippin up shit, zip locks, body bag, toe tags
I leave yo t-shirt sweaty any place, any time you ready