And it's my fucker
I here we go a little freestyle session
to end off the night for y 'all
We about to get out of here
and hit up the clubs and Chico
Now let me know talk here hit it up now
You better put the pedal to the
metal with smash smash
be right on my as s
and they can follow me follow me now
I'll take you to the road road,
but now here we go.
Okay fuck with a nigga talk
Can't see I'm gonna hit you off the dome
with the flow shit hit you up with calicoes
and all the other
Metal shit get down
put the pedal to the metal on
them bitch.
I'm sideways on that ass.
They fucking mr. Mr. Can -G,
I get gone off the O -English
So, man, for sure I was off the hook
Ready to hit some niggas
in this motherfucker
Off the dough, so, with the flows of ghosts
Oh, shit, I'm drunk and
then a motherfucker in this bitch
Mr. Can, leave your brain on freeze
Shit all about my cheddar cheese
Niggas don't know about this
motherfucker
Southside G
Mr. Can -G and
this motherfucking bitch
Please, can't even ride
with a nigga like me
So, get off the heat
Shit, man, can't even stop and pause
Can't even holla at a nigga like you
Cause you got a dirty mouth
Nigga, you probably got a bitch
with dirty drawers
Givin' up a head
to every nigga in the clique
K, fuck with this shit,
I'm off the head with some bullshit
Boy, I'll give it to you raw
I'm a -
I
bring the pain like the candy man
Don't you understand
you should've ran from the boogeyman
The bass pumpin' and the
heart up in the Ebby, man
No matter if you Mexican or if you Asian
But something smell foul like a trash can
Better take out that trash,
my garbage man
Off of that Peter Pan
Where you can hit somebody
Shit will end in a minute man
See my mind is animated like a cartoon
Better shoot more straighter
than a heart poon
I used to try to shoot straight to the moon
Now my thoughts go beyond
just past Neptune
I need to put food on the fucking table
I think I'm able,
I stay strapped like Clark Gable
Now what's the cream,
I don't wanna hear no fucking fable
I might clean the stable on my 9
and leave that ass disabled
Yeah, funk beta, funk beta,
who we got next?
The brother Lynch,
hung steppin' up to the mic
Let it be known
Do we got it?
Do we got it?
You're on
Alright, I just never know
Hey, never know
Put you in the choke hold
Cold blooded, how it went down
Clown niggas ain't round,
I'm in the ground round
Sur round sound, and these cats with us
In the hallway all day
Put you in the trunk with the slump
Diggin' ditches like tooth decay
I got the busted spread
Cause busted be spreadin' like germs
Hook em up like worms
Burn em up like perms
Used to be off that sherm, fuck it,
multi -weed at it
Can't control my bad habits,
when I see the pussy I stab at it
With the candy man hook I grab at it,
with the .44 mag I have at it
Automatically clean the static,
stay strapped in traffic
It's tragic magic how souls leave,
body bleed
How Maseratis leave, no hope,
water or soap, no dope
I be rollin' dick hard down
the boulevard
pullin' whole cars
It's sick made for life, niggas don't know
But I carry the knife,
and I'm cuttin' out throats
Sittin' here with Rola,
and I know the rhymes I wrote will
Carry me on to the next century
Shots out to my nigga Lowkey
and my nigga D
Dub, he on the scrub,
trying to get much love
Dubsack and we love that,
yeah my nigga CO
he next on the microphone
and I'm gonna tell you right now,
I might go home, later on,
ha ha, peace out
Yeah bro, Lil Chung up in here
Brotha Lynch Hung 
