Brotha Lynch Hung - Dead Man Walking lyrics

Thus the n***a in that casket hotboxin How many muthaf**ers wanna empty out they glocks in me The g**ners most wanted The first n***a caught me in my side And my set didn't ride So I'm locc to the mutherf**ing brain 50 pounds of dank in my casket I'm bout to take my last splift Before I make that move to insane Records of a criminal for baby k**in nothin 40 ounces wit my game Them n***as that k** they momma for some fame For the ripgut trigga to hit what muthaf**ers in my aim; Even my momma tried to take me out the game By heating up some Brandy and taking it to the dome because I came; With the siccness and it's just the dank that I smoke Making me load that millimeter putting deuce up in your throat; Murder she wrote, in the book, as a gang related homicide Reality check n***a for the fact she giving it up It's suicide for the do or the die True or the die each time One after each as I creep through the streets With a 9 millimeter up under my seat I pack heat, deep cuz a n***a like me can't be played cheap; blink, before I'm leaving this n***as guts up in the street; peep, ever since n***a deep I gotta carry me something Cuz everywhere I go n***as 12 gauge pumping I wan't them to know when my 44 bust I'm taking this n***as brain hookin him up And murderin n***as up Then I give it up, then I'm in the cut 5 triple 0 double o Mosburg pump Point it at your grill Ready to bust for the fact some call me still The hardest n***a in that casket hotboxing So who those muthaf**ers that wanna empty out they glocks in me; Think 24 times fool fo you come wit yo punk 9's Cuz n***a you n***a me, my oozie say its dinnertime That ripgut cannibal mind for the sh** that make them violent crimes; That's atheist so feel the sign A deadman walkin