Brotha Lynch Hung Black Market Lyrics:
i put my hands in my pocket
they jingle cuz they full of change
and sometimes being broke make your father straight
but i got a better grip on myself
so i avoid being played short like an elf
bust a side bust her in the head
then watch all the yolk come runnin out his head
im tryin to stack the grips that dont let me hit this dick
cuz if i hit this dick ima shoot me a bitch
fuck it, bang bang, 5 minutes later the cops came
im settin up shop for the black market
so if i aim at your mark ass you a target
told you that i come, but i came insane
though im play still killas scramblin the niggas brains
if you gotta go we gotta go i like the 6'4
im pullin GTA's it aint yours no more
then i tell em to strip it down and leave nothing but the frame
then im gon' sell my cousin the gold thangs
cop a burn and turn it over like a flapjack
more money more money for black market

we on the black market, yeah x3

creepin, moves with swifness in the dark
there aint no stoppin once a nigga start
it aint nothin new,up under the sun for days and days
under the moon is where i was born and raised
and doomed for life, and nigga there aint no daylight
i lovee it murderin mothafuckas in the night
a dommsta ready to make his mark, a underground target
hooked up with black market
shit gets deeper and deeper, the doomstown grim reaper and PIT
platinum, Mr Dr Lynch Hung
we do yo ass in good just for fun
15 inches in yo ass bitch
take it and love it but i aint talkin bout no dick
14 suns and moons somthin you can assume
that on the 15th marks my day for doom
buck em and fuck em with doomsday productions
eat clips and trip if i catch you fuckin with my grip
you find your ass dead in a graveyard
and ima continue on my way
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well if you see me chewin baby guts locc
would ya choke
or vomit when that teflon pierced that babys throat
peep me eatin dead cock u trip cuz eatin dead pussy clit
i make ya sick but its that season so my reason is legit
im havin fits, i dream of eatin bloody pussy clits since i was 6
i fiend for dead pussy on my dick
i got the skits, meanin i dont give a shit about yo biatch
that nigga thats from the block killin
up that cock so nigga..shiat
baby barbeque ribs and guts and uh
dont let me get to deep fryin baby nuts, sluts
get ate out like a dank them crooked teeth hurt
i pull that tampax string out and straight put in work
it wouldnt work without that sicc
so page a nigga quick so i can serve you some of that shit
and have you murderin your bitch violently
ive been key for 20 minutes and feel
like killin on that nilla nilla
its that infant killa
aint the bitch mr doc D double O M
in hella heat
niggas im gone, i need another dose of human meat
i lift the creep, and black market death by the scene
as that nigga nigga that 9 millimeter pokes you in your spleen
we on the black market yeahh x3

you let yo eyes upon my fo-fo
and notice every curve and my strap
as the tears roll down
flash of life as you fade to black
if that gat wasnt all up in yo face
reminese of yo folks, yo bitch, yo kids, yo faith
replaced, take it down to the south
get deep, think of moms at yo funeral
locc, and all yo family, huh
its kinda crazy you could lose all of these things so quick
and whats worse, nigga shot ya for the fuck of it, yeah!
never knew id be the one to have you back on my hand
back with the fo-fo mag!
that niggas life wont last
keep listening while i gotta get ya from yo right to ya throat
dig that nail in ya neck watch ya bitch ass choke
no joke im safe from pain all day
all im askin for your mothafuckin grip in exchange
one to the brain in the throat, out the skull
from the big chrome gat, peeled cat release yourself
now ya niggas know
one more dead mothafucka on the street from the Mr death
Locc straight to the brain with sicc ideas with black market
death murder when they suck a big dick
Lyrics: Black Market, Brotha Lynch Hung [end]