Brotha Lynch Hung - Mask And Knife lyrics

[Intro Skit] [Dude 1:] Ay my nig, is that some weed right there, my nig? Let me hit that sh**, man ya feel me? Pa** that sh** [Dude 2:] Naw, this ain't weed, n***a, you know what this is [Dude 1:] I don't know what it is... [Dude 2:] You see how shiny the cigarette is, n***a (hehehe) [Dude 1:] Awww, that crippler dippler! [G-Macc:] Roberto, let's do it again! [Verse 1: G-Macc] Clear my throat, then I Pull a bu*terfly knife out the back pocket chop it with a semi Half of the body left in the closet The other half in the cutla** with me Wanna come back with the gonorrhea Feed it to 'em, stomach empty Look at her fifty stab wounds, hit her with ten Droppin' the knife, then pickin' it up, then shiv her again Deliver it to the meat grinder, makeshift grade weed finder Dig her back up, eat the eyes up Beat your wife up, keep the knife cut I got decay, put it to your face, piece releasin' I bury your face deep to the sea creatures' region I'm knee deep in your niece's feces Right of the pee screamin' finger up, back from the guts, eat these You can look at me, I'm three people One of em axe murderer, one of em cat burglar, other one pure evil Lil' Ripgut 'bout to pick it up and then rape sh**, sake sh** Alcohol and razor blade kit… (Let’s rip it!) [Hook:] Every single day I take a fetus with me (eat it!) [x8] [Verse 2: Bleezo] Frequent, with a black ski mask and a knife! The freak hazardous type Got sick habits to beat rappers, deceased afterlife I'll sneak in your pad and catch you while you sleep stab you twice And with no knee pads knee pads I'll tea bag your wife! n***a, I breathe ga** in the mic No 2 Chainz, but I be in the trap with bean bags all right Did I mention G-Macc, I hope you got a beast appetite Spit at nuts and guts and chunks of human meat slabs tonight…! I eat the beat alive, I'm a mic vulture Play all my money, I carve you n***as like an ice sculpture My mind’s kinda bipolar I'm a high roller, eye swoler I'll probably stab a b**h before the night's over My flow's dope b**h, I rhyme yola I be eatin’ n***as like side orders, when I ride on 'em A scoundrel Run up in your household with a scalpel and scalp you For one hundred thousand and counting, I suicide note’cha [Hook:] Every single day I take a fetus with me (eat it!) [x8] [Verse 3: Brotha Lynch Hung] Everybody 'bout to get chopped up Meat grinder, heat finder, we find her Puttin' her up in the cut, with a couple of razors up in her bu*t Ya boy be f**ing it up, and there ain't nobody that can touch I ain't lyin' n***a, I'm Kobe Bryant in the clutch Grrr, Mask and the Knife Run up in your house, n***a, and I'm slashin' your wife Kidnappin' your infants, I'm rippin' sh**, I get into sh** Run up on 'em, gun up on 'em, I won upon ’em, sickle sick! (Grr) k** a n***a like cancer if he think about f**ing with me Sticking a .50 caliber up the gut, hit the kidneys Rapin' a n***a, scrapin' a n***a off the plate I think my brain is off the slate (Ay n***a, ay, come here n***a) Altercate Running through n***as like Walter Payton Dead wife at the altar waiting Grr, splitting the cleavage, I got the meat cleaver Cuttin' em up when I eat people! [Hook:] Every single day I take a fetus with me (eat it!) [x8] [Outro Skit]