Blood On Da Rug Pt. 2 lyrics

Artist  : Brotha Lynch Hung 
Song : Blood On Da Rug Pt. 2
 


(chorus)
Left his blood on da
rug,evidence,could have been mine and his so i
been stressed out eva since,left him on the
concrete with his head split,found out where I
live by this,by this punk bitch,knowin its bout
to crack like an indo sack im hella fucked up,so
with the heat i commense a peak out the
window,waitin,run out the indo,shakin niggas like
barry sanders cuz they weak,they weak,hella
weak

And I'm at my peak when I'm buckin at
my enemy its like ten of me,choppin down trees
twistin up leaves bout to make niggas bleed,off
the hook like a fish with his lip cut,get away
got away rip gut,hit em up with enough lead stuff
to turn em into a magnet,body in da dragnet,keep
my dickies saggin blue flaggin,body draggin down
the street to the end of the creek and seatful
you seatin,creepin through da grass,the gardens
they call it,and i be draggin on a garcia vega
with the green flava neighbahood make a break a
duece four,fuck a ho,a lot a niggas dont know,but
its lose a ho gain a ho,so bruise a ho whos ta
know,youll need to follow me up,leave your body
in the back of an '84 cut all chopped up,look
through my window at night and you can get glass
in your eye after that your ass gonna die
screamin and thas no lie,you'll be passin me by
every night until i come out wit the minni mac
and attack like a pit bull off that dumb shit you
pulled

(Chorus)

Nigga I know gotta
roll like dough blow da whole east side into
smitherines leavin all the bloody river
streams,you niggas didn't give a fuck bout me,so
i left you stranded on the titanic don't panic
you just need some fuckin heat,fuckin wit me
nigga it's like fuckin your momma nigga it's
right in front of your face nigga it's drama
makin your space takin your place nigga you weak
weak as fuck mothafucka duck rap your cut tryin
to get away from me and my AP let me know when
you had enough,cleanin up these streets gettin
rid of these hos and foes,you can see me in my
blue clothes sittin on trus and vo's,waitin,see
me on the street and you aint got nothin to say
to me but fuck you wit two dicks and a four
fifth,smoke you like a bomb its suckin blood from
my moms tits thas how sick I got that gangsta
disease I be lovin to bring em to they knees make
me nut like semen,see men like a demon,when I red
beam em, seen em,with the AP eatin up human
beings

(Chorus)

Dem niggas that
want to empty out my chest plate i hit em wit
fury and make em go sickly from the snake bite,a
parasite,you aint tight,try to fuck wit a nigga
to get right end up in the pit bull fight,trust
me my trusty heat is rusty waitin for the scene
to get dusty and all you see is just me,standin
like the last man standin but i aint no bruce
willis,manic depressin from wrestless I'm a hog
about my juice feel it,when i plug you wit the
tech,ghetto chef,cuttin niggas up like david
caresse welcome to your own death when the phonk
was on your nigga crept like a spida denied her
of a life,then nutted all up inside her,i kiss
the bitches and made em switches,get you for all
your riches,in the back yard im diggin ditches
tend to act hard and get your lip split,my weapon
got the chrome dip like scottie pippen im dippin
from long range hit up with part of the
game

(Chorus)