Brotha Lynch Hung – Reachin' For Fame lyrics

[Lynch Talking]
Yeh, yeh..
Back at that ass once again
Had to do it, bitch niggaz in the town
Ya know what I'm sayin'
I'ma tell 'em what I know
Know what I know
[Brotha Lynch Hung]
Word on the streets is don't quit ya day job
I own spots while you won't even get to own a spot
I'm unconcious sippin' on that sugary Saint I-des
Your raps need that Midas touch while mines rhymes
It's suicide fuckin' wit me, believe it
I'll tuck the fifty cal now cause some niggaz tried to get me
Split me in half like a joint bitch, I had it crackin'
Slugs went flyin' through ya window, nigga I'm the captain
You just rappin' to get by, might have to get to wrapped in a 6-5
Might have to get that truckin' and get locked
nigga you taste good like sour cream and chives over potatoes
I'm a tornado, you just a puddle
A poodle talkin' shit 'bout to get one put in ya noodle
Biotch ya got the nuts to be attackin' back at me
My chap I'm strapped have the fifty pound metal in the back seat
And it's all legal, got me dumpin' at ya Regal wid the do dirty
Gotta get mine done no matter who hurt me
Every bitch I got I got the key to the spot
Better hide yo bitch before I get the key to your spot
Stand right over ya bed wid yo glock
Put one right in ya head ya whole cake
You ain't even gon' play my shit rock up just like cocaine
You a no name I'm preachin' you still reachin' for fame
[Tall Cann]
Same old shit but a different day
Back at these niggaz like boomerangs
nigga wanna come around and do my thang
Bangin' these niggaz for the dead issues
Call the paramedics to get you
Not fuckin' wid me in this lifetime
Not