Welcome To Your Own Death Lyrics - Brotha Lynch Hung

And as I bail through the woods of the southside 

Terror zone 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 motherfucker 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 o get shot, 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 

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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 

So niggas miss my sicc 

Some niggas don't know me, niggas don't know my click 

That O-loc-double-C-O-G rip gut canibal type of shit 

Plus many more caps bust 

Anymore sacks to roll up, we need that high back 

So niggas done load them nines and pull them high jacks 

And lie back in the cut and roll another fat one up 

Tack one up for locc to the brain 

Them niggas that really don't give a fuck 

Around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut 

So nigga now whatcha gon do with a mini mack ten ten at yo gut 

Photos 

Plus niggas nuts and guts is what I rips for 

Creepin' up in a six four impala 

Mobbin' a loots all up to make you vomit from the raw gut cause 

Nah what I do is let my nine do the talkin' 

Leavin' you walkin' to your funeral low 

Diggin'? yo smoke from the mack 1-0 

I had ya pussin' just in case 

I got me a mack eleven for your face that's leavin' no trace 

Caps leavin' a gate and puttin' holes in a niggas neck 

So watch the reeper when I creep crept 

Welcome to your own death 

Chorus x6 

When I hit the block with a nine 

Them fools better be duckin' 

My nigga duck got out the car and started buckin' at niggas runnin' 

untraceable gauge shells 

Only worriers goin' to hell 

And 5-0 they just can't swoop 

See cause we mobbin' too well 

My murder file done pile more than a nigga expected 

See cause have of the city of Sac still ain't accepted 

That I'm a pack and when I'm sweated I'ma put in work 

Cause my OG told me why G's got to kick up some dirt 

And I'm tired of warnin' a motherfucker about a nigga like me 

When it's hard to believe 

the nine millimeter comin' out my pants gonna make you dance 

See that's the city and it's making a motherfucker stress 

Gotta watch your back like 24-7 

unless you wanna be livin' the rest of your life 

Up in a cemetery die nigga die you'll repeat until you're buried 

That nine millimeter givin' no motherfuckin' respect 

Up on your back with your last breathe 

Welcome to your own death 

Chorus x6