Brotha Lynch Hung - Death Dance lyrics

rate me

Til we run out the school, the school of hard knocks

That's real

Bout to show you somethin' new, don't worry about it

Uh-huh, yeah

[Verse 1]

Never had a life, never had a wife

I'd rather have a jack knife and creep through the night

See my mind ain't right, just ran out of my Prozac (damn)

This grind ain't right, I'm supposed to have fat stacks

Certain people in my life, they didn't have my back

It's hurtin' deep and I'm still fightin' to make a come up, you know what

So I put the gun up, and I picked up the mic

Then it all came out, it was a very bloody sight

It was a very dark night, (pull out the tool)

Do the death dance, I don't wanna see your hands

'til we (run out the school), school of hard knocks

We tote glocks and punch holes in 'em like polka dots, scopin' plots

It's nothin', I handle raps like I handle lacs

Plus I, I handle this like I handle that

I got skills in this battle rap, matter fact

You could meet me in the back, and we could spit shit like mini macs

How many times must I have to spit, patna?

And how many nines must I have to grip?

Cuz I rip shit like a ice pick and I hit up your block quick

And if you can't see it you must got glock-coma

I'm sicc in the head and I'm not sober

[Chorus x2]

Do the death dance, (C'mon)

Do the death dance, C'mon

I don't wanna see your hands

Do the death dance

[Verse 2]

See, I'm try'na do damage to your soil

Half you niggas can get your brains wrapped up, in some aluminum foil

I'm hard-boiled like John Woo, smoke bomb too

You must be off that dope and dog food, I can make it all cool

I've been stressed out, lookin' for the best route

Sendin' out death certificates, what's this all about?

I'ma be the next man to admit this, touch me if you wanna

I had a close relationship with straight gin and Mary J-uana

Crooked like every daytona, get that

Smash out out in a glass house, first one in, last one out

Put one in, take one out

I make you take a bath in cold water with heavy shoes (ooh)

I'm that fool that rips it up, them other fools bad news

It's cold blue and I can make your body cold too

He ain't the only one, we got heavy right out the Chevy

And it's a cold, cold medley, them other thangs is petty

Aight, everybody get ready

[Chorus x2]