31 Summers - Brotha Lynch Hung

I was born in the summer

I been here every summer

And when they ask me how to come up

I tell 'em, «Grind for thirty-one summers

Spit and shine for thirty-one summers

Grit and grind for thirty-one summers» (Yeah)

When they ask me how to come up (Grr)

I tell 'em, «Die for thirty-one summers»

Niggas don’t wanna get it, I’m harder then penetentiary steel

For my niggas locked down in the penetentiary still

I wasn’t meant to be killed, I was mentally ill

I needed medicine, your head’ll get injured, it will

Better yet, Excederin, murder, et cetera

You fuckin' with a psycho, nigga, you better run

Pray before I put you in the grave most likely

You met a lot of rappers?

Well, none of 'em like me

Ripped the rap game sorta like Ice-T

One little chain, I don’t need to be icy

Oh, I see, y’all niggas wanna get cut up

Really wanted to nut-up, brains dipped in butter

Guts in the gutter, my nigga, I’m that vicious (Vicious)

Put me in a circle of rappers, I handle business (I handle business)

Scandalousness, nigga, what up?

Niggas’ll die for thirty-one summers (Nigga)

I was born in the summer

I been here every summer

And when they ask me how to come up

I tell 'em, «Grind for thirty-one summers (Grr)

Spit and shine for thirty-one summers

Grit and grind for thirty-one summers» (Yeah)

When they ask me how to come up

I tell 'em, «Die for thirty-one summers» (Yeah)

Shittin' on you niggas like diarrhea, don’t try and see him

I’m busy eatin' up human beings and you can see it

You could be it, that nigga that nigga you see me eatin'

Hop in a circle and I’ll chop you up to little meatlets

Yes, grr, gun in the dresser, my pleasure

Human meat in a crock pot, that’s my treasure

Put the seasonin' salt, I don’t have to measure

Get your fuckin' hands out the pot, nigga, you better

I’m a genius at makin' em eat red meat

Knee-deep in it, for each ten-inch, you’ll get a heat lift

Facelift, I’m Jason, put a leak in it

A lot of blood on the ground and you gon' sleep in it

All niggas is dyin' before he finish

Rip the guts out of niggas before I replenish

Who’s next?

Give 'em a suplex

Take over his duplex and give her the new sex

Grr

Motherfucker

Gon' light me a cigarette

Where my fuckin' lighter at?

Yeah, nigga

I was born in the summer

I been here every summer

And when they ask me how to come up

I tell 'em, «Grind for thirty-one summers (Grr)

Spit and shine for thirty-one summers

Grit and grind for thirty-one summers» (Yeah)

When they ask me how to come up (Grr)

I tell 'em, «Die for thirty-one summers» (Yeah)

Kevlar, nigga

Grr