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Q-Ball Lyrics - Artist : Brotha Lynch Hung
(Q-Ball, Q-Ball, Q-Ball, Q-Ball)
So what really happened, nigga? I understand ain't nobody did shit Ain't nobody did shit for my cousin Where them niggas at that said they'd put it all on the line? 'Cause nigga Only chop they emptied went up toward the sky I gotta know where niggas heads at 'Cause my cousin still ain't got no peace yet So all you motherfuckers wanna know where I stand? Nigga, I stand right next to my cousin Emil, nigga You know what I'm sayin'? And that's on the Blocc nigga However you wanna handle this shit, nigga Look up in the sky, it's a motherfuckin' slug Some nigga done let one off and only my cousin's sheddin' blood That loccest muthafucka from 29th Street throwin' up his flag, some nigga got mad And went to the crib for the forty-four mag, returned to the set-up and let my cousin have it That nigga that died for the Garden Blocc gang, did time for the Garden Blocc And ended up stuck in a muthafuckin' casket, but I don't be givin' a fuck I'm tappin' up in your program Before you know it I'm creepin' up on you in a licorice dark, black, drop-top Brougham With a twelve gauge pump in the trunk and a clip full of funk And a fat Purple Kush blunt, so call it what you want I call it the fever of the funk house, dumpin' gauge shells in that ass Leavin' you face down, chest down with a gang of guts hangin' out your ass Nigga you know the process, they wanna kill me now I'm a dead man walkin' to my funeral, can you feel me now? And if I die before your set gets blasted That's on the Gardens I'm gon' rise up out my casket I'm liquor sick and I just might lose control So load your clips, locs, 'cause we ridin' for my folks I'm liquor sick and I just might lose control So load your clips, locs, 'cause we ridin' for my folks And I'm out in six-five hardtop Impala lookin for that one eight seven There he go and I'm right behind him bustin' with my MAC-11 Straight bumper-to-bumper twelve gauge pumpin' was that Lil X Loccsta Givin' up his set and dumpin' on niggas just like he's supposed to Nigga this is real deal shit It's not about Crip or Blood, it's about payback That family love, so nigga now fuck your whole clique Like 24 Deep they tryin' to kill me for my fuckin' tapes Them baby rapes, so nigga get out my fuckin' face If I was really bangin' niggas would know, 'cause I'd have they whole set Lookin' like L.A. when the earthquake hit, nigga, fuckin' with my Tec I'm from the Garden Blocc, no matter what nobody say I'm makin' my money, not lettin' that bangin' shit get in my way Niggas get mad, they wanna see the Lynch rippin' I'm wearing blue, yeah, but motherfucker I ain't even trippin' But for my cousin Q-Ball, Mr. Doc and Sicx My cousin Eklypss and two of my kids, nigga, catch these clips I'm liquor sick and I just might lose control So load your clips, locs, 'cause we ridin' for my folks I'm liquor sick and I just might lose control So load your clips, locs, 'cause we ridin' for my folks There ain't no fuckin' way My cousin's gonna lay up in a casket with no retaliation There ain't no fuckin' way That motherfucker died for the Blocc, so lets heat them motherfucking Glocks There ain't no fuckin' way My cousin's gonna lay up in a casket with no retaliation There ain't no fuckin' way That motherfucker died for the Blocc, so lets heat them motherfucking Glocks You know what I'm sayin? This time it ain't gon be shootin in da muthafuckin air nigga. We takin out bones you know. 'cause dat nigga woulda did it for us you know. I gotta do what I gotta do, you know what I'm sayin? Tried to sit up here and do my music thang you know? Then my 'causezin got rolled on you know? Dem niggaz frum da Garden don't do nuthin now, we all gon get rolled up. Like a fat ass blunt nigga. So wassup? I'm puttin my life on da line for dis shit, They wanna kill me 'cause I'm rappin, you know what I'm sayin? Wassup niggaz? Dedicated to my 'causezin Q Ball. Rest In Peace nigga. To dem otha muthafuckas, fuck peace. |
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