Bleeding House Mystery

(album: Lynch By Inch: Suicide Note - 2003)

[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch]
Must be some leakage in my click, some niggas done ran up in my shit
Forced to use the fo-fifth, leavin 'em laying in Ol 8 English piss
Got me all stressing and sick, picking up bodies 'n draggin 'em, body baggin 'em
Try'na get it all done before the wagon come stashing them
Aye put Scarface on the T.V, put the volume up to ten and a half
That way when the police come, Al Pacino busting caps
I got away with a killing, it was self defence
Had to rinse niggas off the hallway walls, send my hate out to all they dogs
Yelling like a psycho when I pulled it
It was cutting every bullet plenty of full clips
Fuck em, feed em tef' tips
Got a tool kit, filled of kill em up shit
I be putting niggas on the ground wid it, fuck niggas who ain't down wid it
They can hit the back door, see I'ma handle this
I'm so scandalous, like a preacher to teach ya of this [?] shit
If I gotta trip, I'ma heat ya and eat ya
I swear I'm serious, herious, feriously hitting chest plates
I hit them niggas up quick and have it all cleaned up by the next day

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch]
See I was shooting through the hallway
Try'na hit everything in sight
Thinking in my mind I knew this shit could happen one night
Gotta hit that one right, when I hit that one left
And I'm in the room filling up the wycelf, quiet steps Boom!
Muthafucka what'chu doing here, don't you know I got kids?
Hold up, he ain't dead yet, one mo' to the ribs
Try'na get body parts to relatives, like nigga you don't get it?
I cut when I hit it, nigga nuts 'n guts ripped when I did it

[Verse 2: Zigg Zagg]
Night after night, I had another thought of destruction
Until this evening, couldn't believe it ran up in my home with the heat, buckin
My baby's watching it, front row seated, with the chrome to the [?] momma
No pain right now, but later on down the line with the head drama
Didn't expect this to happen to me but this evening was heated
When I walked outta the bedroom, witnessed 'em flash by deep and all black eye ...[?]
I mean five or six of 'em, strapped, with the nine-milla to my face
I [?] the hallway, backed up, and ran to the closet for the 12 gauge
What could I do right now beside let it all surface
Then come fuck up your shit on purpose, I got your whole system nervous
But you lied to me compulsive, hit me the hardest like explosives
into your underground Black Market recording shit, get focused
Dis Siccmade, can't nothing possibly take that away
But if you make me mad, I get that rage
Inflict pain, then make arrangements
Labelled the most wanted, the most dangerous
Wake up out of a dead sleep, walking to the murder
Then flamed the rush

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Brotha Lynch]
See now it's two weeks later, I had to cut like a cheese grater
Did in all black like a Raider and hit niggas up like a pager, red beam laser
My trust got all fucked up so now I'm watching the lights behind me
Tucking the metal stuff, try'na get that shit behind me
Testing my ghetto luck, in the streets Zigg Zagg, my crimey
We looking for that prime meat
We looking for that man that plotted the crime to try to tie my
life span, splatter my pipe dream
Leave you stiff like a mic stand
Yeah I'm the Burbank titan, whether you liking it or not
Grew up right out of 24th street, yeah some call it the block
And when they first hit the locks, see I was shot
All I saw was chrome and niggas in black ski masks, coming in my home
They try'na take my money, they try'na get paid, so I don't blame 'em
But I wish I had the chopper to put the flame to 'em
But I didn't, just a hand pistol, same doing, bone gristle
Came to 'em, dumpin at shadows, and I was having shoot-out battles

[Chorus x2]