Brotha Lynch Hung - Reachin' For Fame lyrics

[Lynch Talking] Yeh, yeh.. Back at that a** once again Had to do it, b**h n***az in the town Ya know what I'm sayin' I'ma tell 'em what I know Know what I know [Brotha Lynch Hung] Word on the streets is don't quit ya day job I own spots while you won't even get to own a spot I'm unconcious sippin' on that sugary Saint I-des Your raps need that Midas touch while mines rhymes It's suicide f**in' wit me, believe it I'll tuck the fifty cal now cause some n***az tried to get me Split me in half like a joint b**h, I had it crackin' Slugs went flyin' through ya window, n***a I'm the captain You just rappin' to get by, might have to get to wrapped in a 6-5 Might have to get that truckin' and get locked n***a you taste good like sour cream and chives over potatoes I'm a tornado, you just a puddle A poodle talkin' sh** 'bout to get one put in ya noodle Biotch ya got the nuts to be attackin' back at me My chap I'm strapped have the fifty pound metal in the back seat And it's all legal, got me dumpin' at ya Regal wid the do dirty Gotta get mine done no matter who hurt me Every b**h I got I got the key to the spot Better hide yo b**h before I get the key to your spot Stand right over ya bed wid yo glock Put one right in ya head ya whole cake You ain't even gon' play my sh** rock up just like c**aine You a no name I'm preachin' you still reachin' for fame [Tall Cann] Same old sh** but a different day Back at these n***az like boomerangs n***a wanna come around and do my thang Bangin' these n***az for the dead issues Call the paramedics to get you Not f**in' wid me in this lifetime Not thinkin' in my right mind Like Mike Tyson when it's my time Got these n***az hollerin' woof Baby you ain't hard as hundred proof My fellow you just a n***a that won't fit in a puddle Piece a sh**, nut ridin' get your a** outta hidin' Dip on 21st street ridin' there won't be a survivor Yo a** ain't no McGuyver you done say the wrong thangs The method that I got to give 'em bustin' out some teeth to say the less You can save the rest for later I mean I'm way to major like E-major n***a You claimin' my game but you ain't nothin' but a hater So when I pull out my tool scram Ya riddled drain eggs and ham you in the fryin' pan The way I reach out and snap a n***a like a rubber band Oh no there goes another man tryna f** wid the Siccmade fam Uh, Uh again?, God damn [CO] These n***az talk alot of sh** but don't really know about C-O That sneaky motherf**a hit ya a** like ya P-O When ya least expect it with the cold Smith and Wesson Have my b**h, set you up at the telly get you undressin' Then it's lights camera action my pistol's blastin' Ya night went from cashin' to missin' fractions But sh** do happen, so ya shoulda been ready Instead of doin' all that yappin' shoulda copped you somethin' heavy We deadly, like rattlesnake bites y'all the taddlin' type Deal wit my pain and probably rattle ya life So instead of worryin' about ours you need to see What's the matter wit ya life? What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get it right? What's the matter wit ya life boy, ya can't get a life? Then spark it up this hitter does so ya can't get no ice So now ya wanna hold a grudge wid, n***az like us Beause we move sh** like d** where y'all stayin' and cus And talk about the same sh** all day And us we on the next page and after that the next page So try again the next day if you can't fade us today Practice makes perfect lil' guy stay in ya place [Brotha Lynch] I'm a Southside rider, funk provider Leave you in the trunk tied up, punk ya lied to us Just to tryna glock wid us get a piece of the pie wid us We too O-G, I don't f** wid them mics cuz I'm diggy down it will take plots to get me now And I got the fifty thou, wanna bet ya not get me pow I'm the threat starter fire starter put a hole in ya Starter And you couldn't find me cause it's time for departure Tryna get ya CD's out, I know it start ya Blame it on me I got heat, I leave ya scortched up I'm on the porch and nuttin' up, Southside, keep locked Where the G's knock n***az out for f**in' up, we tuck 'em up Me and C-O and Tall Cann you can't f** wid us We somethin' rough you n***az be punkin' up we got pumps and stuff All up in the trunk and stuff we be waitin' for attack Get me sprayin' on ya pack and now you layin' on ya back You ain't payin' all ya rap taxes institute of malpractice I put ya raps in a casket you half plastic Patty mealed a** n***a put ya raps in the thrashbin Ya clashin' wid the Burbank titan fasten ya seatbelts I'm bout to make ya meat melt That beer breath spittin' meat chunks at ya wig punk I fear less rather hear less, you n***az is tryna pay less I make ya days less trippin' on the famous tryna get famous n***a please [Tall Cann] Ain't nobody f**in' wit me, this side of the city Northside gangsta ride turn you liars to sissies You ain't bangin' sh** so miss me wid ya bullsh** comment You know me, I worship drama that was a curse from my momma So if you wanna bring it here boy Northgate in El camino I'm right here boy All day long all night strong we be runnin' the North And I can have n***az from your hood, run on ya porch Ya little cowards keep the gun in ya shorts We keep the blunts and the ports to blaze up After ya spirit raise up you still think you can rap you need to give them days up It's gonna cost you ya cap takin' cheap shots at us So cuz toss me the strap and put these streets on hush Because they full of wack n***az and they speak too much And now we can't have that because we G too much So I'ma end it on this fact n***a'll bleed too much Ya keep talkin'