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


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