Return Of Da Baby Killa

Brotha Lynch Hung

featuring X-Raided




You better pray



When you see me put that nine up in that pussy, ho



Cock it back slow



Rock it back and forth, wait for the nut, then let my trigger go



BOOM!



Pussy-guts all over the room



If you ain't seen it,



Then you're fiendin'



For the meanin'



Of that nina of doom



2 inches in and, uh, 4 inches out



You back that nigga that pack that gat



And hit that indo-sack



It's like that



Cannabis and tea've, uh, got me stuck on stump, fool



All it take is a way, a fat, green-bud blunt and a stunt



Cause it's that nigga that work 'em nigga deep



And block creep



And witness murder, baby, kill a seed



Once it'll make you vomit



Guts in a mama's baby, nuts in a bottle, maybe it's common



Biatches keep fuckin' and suckin' and keepin' it comin'



With they drama. POP! It's baby killa season



Put 6 in the clip, put it up that clit



And watch them baby's brains



Drip out that fetus



Bleed, it's that nigga that kill 'em



I'll fill 'em all full for that sicc reason



Season of da siccness broodin', got me trippin' for no reason




Guess what daddy's bringin' home for supper



Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker



Now eat! Cause daddy's workin' hard for you, real, huh?



Killas run around everyday that's why I'm hard for you, nigga!



Now eat!




As I creep, picture every human that I seek



Slabs of human meat



Cause my kids gotta eat



I lives kinda deep, dark, up in tha cut



Where niggas load nines, and barrel-fuck a slut



Nigga, what? You ain't even seen me in my prime