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Brotha Lynch Hung

Feel My Nature Rize

 

Feel My Nature Rize

(album: Loaded - 1997)


[Lynch:]
Feel my nature rise, blood shot red eyes
Waiting in your back seat, catch you by surprise
Situations and circumstances make you take them dangerous chances
Leave you in your front seat with your neck slit, then I'm hitting fences
Now I'ma talk about the same dirty situation
Shit you hating, that's why your casket is waiting
Shine your ass up like a triple gold Dayton
When I'm in your town you better cut like Walter Payton
Studio man keep taping, I got that bitch, she peratrating
Show your whole family, leave you on your front porch hanging
With a note that's saying: 'sincerely, Swartzaniggaz'
Put your hands in your pocket, give it up
I demand I need my tweed, potent refer, man
Bandstanding with the hand cannon
Split my face, muthafucka, gimme your scrill
And that Rolex in your hand, understand?
Yeah, you gots to feel my nature rise

[Swartzaniggaz:]
I can feel my nature rise
Staring at the marks that I despise
Through evil eyes, high style thoughts turn homicides
You gots to die, for tryna ride and get me
Got some off, but none of them hit me
Now on a payback tip, with a patched black mask
On the grass with a 50 caliber weapon
Hanging up over the door of the Chev and causing slaughter
Sid's Malt Liquor be that motive when I be loaded off that water
Saw the situation heavy rolling
Shotgun and a Chevy that's stolen
Strapped up and ready in case these niggas wanna get deadly
We can go there, I know there's a place for busta niggas like ya'll
But I heard it's pretty deep down so you niggas better watch your fall
Too late for that 911 call, this murder's already in progress
Home invasions like Asian got me obsessed like a Vietnam vet
As I kick through the front door, blasting
And Lynch kicked down the back
Operation: Peel-a-cap, you fools shoulda already had your gats loaded
Cuz it ain't no telling when we coming
Back streets, sacs of weed get blazed as we gunning with the engine still
running
Cuz real killers make them real quick get aways
Spray the whole place and skirt
As quick as we can, we does our dirt
Whoever gets hurt, that's business
So please don't take this personal
It's just that murder's in my nature
So four years now, that's what I've been searching for
Cuz doing dirt grows old when it's the same old thing
That's why I try to take my murders to the highest extreme
Make everybody scream, open up some spleens
Still hearing the blood spilling
It's just a little dream that I be having
Man, I love killing

[Brotha Lynch:]
I got a hard dick for killing
Southside villain
Protect your wife and your children
Feel my nature rise

[Swartzaniggaz:]
Not quite knowing about this nigga?
Check your metro sections
Then cross reference murders by streets and dates
And how many times niggas' hoes' got raped
Mr. No Prints, the reason one time runs out of yellow tape
Fucking with a half deck, having niggas on hush
Smoking a bowl that I re-dust
Open up your chest when I bust
So suit up, cuz it's kill a nigga night
Ain't no telling when Triple 6 gets to shooting up
Moving up your death date, with a Tre-8 special
It's way too late to wrestle, as I nestle the sword stoppers
Split your ass open like pinata
Loading up like a Rotweiler
Lining up like Tyson snorting cocaine powder
Pure dank sniffer, some like a lot of fluid, but I beg to differ
One wiff of that shit and I'm on cloud nine
Nigga, don't trip if you ain't got no nuts
Cuz I brought mine all buffed and shined
Untouchable when I'm fucking full of that nitrate wine
That's when I bust on nineteen times and up
Cuz I'm nuts, going out my mind
Few, there's no luck, you fucked for life, for sho'
Get your ass up on the floor
Trying to catch me at that lateral, slipping
By my lonesome, but I'm on some, so who wants some?
Fresh out the gates, ain't no room to make mistakes
Try to make my tapes, but I feel the hoe hate
Tuck my dick inside in the O-8
Must of been the way the clip mate with the .45
No body, no case
Taste the meat, can't wait to eat
Keep the street dirty, keep sturdy in your face

[Swartzaniggaz:]
Ya'll niggas don't wanna feel my nature rise
Cuz I get dirty, shoot up shit with my Clint Eastwood
Leave your neighborhood looking like a ghost town, nigga
You standing on dangerous grounds
When we come to Sac, better have your automatics on loaded status
Cuz me and my niggas be on the savage, leaving no prints
Not giving ya'll niggas a inch, cuz I'ma lynch you
Fry your guts like Sizziline
Have your homie reminiscing' about your gangsta lean
Nigga, it ain't no fucking with my clique
You can dial 911, but it ain't no rescue
Man, I hope the dear Lord bless you
Next to this nigga, ain't no one's nuts bigger
Clutch your guts nigga, fucking with this Swartzanigga
Cuz I done lost it, tagging niggas like a pit bull with rabies
Gone off 40 ounces of O.E.
Creeping up on you, like doing my Magnum P.I.
Lazy Eye with Lil' Blacc Mile
Smoking a hard dick for killing

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?