[Intro dialogue]

[Hook]
I'm one of the last sicc n***as that you heard thus far
You can bump me at your crib or while you off that nitro in your car
But I don't say that to say that I'm a superstar
But if you get high then you can feel me no matter who you are

[Verse 1]
Now I got medieval but then I had to leave them weak n***as alone
Situation dirty, squeaky clean, Brotha Lynch Hung
That's right, I gots to have my weed, Lord knows I'm a fiend
This n***a don't respect me, 45 for the P, n***a please
I was spendin G's; hold up, n***a, freeze
Come up off that weed 'cause you done fucked around and went up on me
I want the whole Ziploc full of shamrock
And if you're reachin in your pocket
I'ma heat the heat and leave you in a meat locker
Now that's my knocka, he's to the side with the mask on
I'ma give you 15 percent, so if you need to, get yo' blast on
And that's a fat zone that's a good start start
You can it sacc and or serve it (or what?) take it to the heart heart
I'm a lil' n***a (thinkin' what?) thinkin' big
Cut off your nuts and leave you screamin' like a starved pig
Hold you hostage in your crib
And yo, planned the whole situation out, so I got first dibs
Now, bigger than life is how I'm comin' out
Rigorous and vigorous (what you mean?), you n***as know what I'm talkin' 'bout
I want cheese and lettuce in my wallet so fetish
And I wanna break through like Jerome Bettis, pro status
All this time I got ryhme on my mind every dime
I spend it on some weed and some studio time
Drink O-E out the mickeys big mouth
My point is I be in the cut trying to keep these snakes out my house
[Interlude: Brotha Lynch Hung talking]
You know I push, I push play on brain one day
And it played back some shit
Some shit containing (some shit containing) snakes (snakes)
I mean, talk to me (serpents)

[Hook]
I'm one of the last sicc n***as that you heard thus far
You can bump me at your crib or while you off that nitro in your car
But I don't say that to say that I'm a superstar
But if you get high then you can feel me no matter who you are

[Verse 2]
N***a now I shit lyrics but I can't use 'em
Have your son trippin', Brotha Lynch Hung loopin' (loopin')
They be off that bottle talkin' 'bout "Brotha Lynch be talkin' 'bout
Sicc shit, I heard he ate his mama out"
Now how this motherfucker gone write some shit
'Bout the Brotha Lynch Hung, 'cause he killin' in his song
He say (what?), "That n***a shit tight, but he ain't shit"
He say (what?), "God is my witness, I heard he fuck them bitches"
Which is suppose to be wrong criticizin' my love song
You get the rope, fuckin' with the Brotha Lynch Hung
Wrong information make intimidation
Catch you on your weed high (catch you on your weed high)
I tore you up like a pitch bend
Feelin' dick hard, well you better get your bitch then, it gets thin
And I'm off this Black & Mild shit
Tall Cann told me it's smooth and now I'm buyin' boxes of it
Tryin' to relax and deal with these taxes (why?)
'Cause they be at my checks wit them axes
Twenty saccs is in the back seat, I'm license-less
Hope motherfuckin' baby's mama ain't no shiesty bitch
She want her publishing, a'ight, that's cool
She want some other shit, get off the hydro tube
N***as always think I talk about'em because I talk shit
My worst nightmare was killin' my bitch for tryin' to get my grits
I'm like Mark Spitz, I swim a channel for my shit
And watch your heart split, I'm doing damage to your bitch
(Doing damage to yo' beyotch) And while your heart switch
You better remember where you came from, bitch
[Outro dialogue]