Brotha Lynch Hung - Addictive lyrics

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Brotha Lynch Hung - Addictive lyrics

[Verse 1: Slick Pulla] You don't ride delinquent Roll with nothing but misfits Grind all day, get my money in a stink pit Or should I say a stink pipe, or should I say a stink hole You going down fast, like you stuck in a sink hole I'm at your door, no need to cover up your peephole It's just me and the guns and a couple amigos If G were here today, would holler hasta manana Sooner or later, we gone be at your a** partner I like to get it poppin', I don't be doing it talkin' Walk in and push your belt like, Christopher Walken All out war, but it started all over flowers Now it's hit some broad dinner While you cowards be bullet dodged [Hook: Dead Mic] High speed, in the fast lane Ride hard, got the hustle in my damn veins Stacks or racks stuffed in my Gucci bag No rehab, I'm addicted to the damn game [Verse 2: C-Bo] I told Dead Mic got ya homie Vet, couple choppers on me WestSide n***a, where they're known to grow the best broccoli homie Lookin' out for the drive-by, your man'll go missing So I keep my neighborhood on lock like we landed in San Quinn Yeah, these n***as know what it is I'm in this sh** for the long run Stuffed Ts, khakis, and wife beaters with long guns Where the color of your shoestrings, will send a n***a on one Have n***as throwin' gang signs, shootin' trying to dome one The respect's amazing, street cred. through the roof I really did main line time, they said I'm the truth Cause I ain't never whine And I'll be dead before you others see me on the news Tryin' to shed time, tryin' to fight crime Nah, that ain't like mine We had a lifeline We still got n***as bouncin' back off nines and dimes And get right back in that kitchen Mask on, and back to whippin' A fiend for the money, man this sh** is so addictive [Hook] [Verse 3: Brotha Lynch Hung] Spider man, I still be creepin' where you sleepin' And we can get to squeezing and start k**ing for no reason But I'm steadily on this rap sh** No more selling crack, sh** Trust me I still pack sh** n***a it's still the season Of the sickness, get your dick split n***a this still crip sh** Spit that c**aine, I'm getting you mothaf**ers addicted sh**, I had it hard, like Vicodin with addiction Cowboys and Indians, always was a misfit 24, 29, 21st, garden blocc Yeah, we put Sac on the map, other n***as hardly not Gurr, tryin' to help the young n***as out We could only do so much, or pull triggers out And if we don't sell, we going back to that other sh** Damn, I just ran out, C-Bo got that other clip 64 ridin' up, somebody about to get their dick split Yeah I still love it n***a (love what?), it's so addictive [Hook] [Outro] [C-Bo] a fiend for the money, man this sh** is so addictive [Slick Pull] grind all day, get my money in a stink pit [C-Bo] a fiend for the money, man this sh** is so addictive