Brotha Lynch Hung – 24 Deep (Instrumental) (Prod. By Cedric Singleton & Brotha Lynch Hung) | Throwback Thursdays

24 Deep Lyrics by Brotha Lynch Hung
[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
Strikin’ through the deuce with a 40 in my mouth
The nigga with the rep of atheismistic doubt
Rippin’ the label off the 4-0, based on the fact
I got respect for my dead folks, props for my nigga locs
187’s in the hood, I can’t say shit
One-time thinkin’ it was premeditated
I could eat a view from the deuce-fo’ block
40 in my mind, makin’ me think I’m gon’ get shot
In deuce-fo’ deep, the nigga with the sickness
A nigga with hella enemies, always cool and 86’d
Niggas from the hood ended up provin’ they was a snitch
Fuck it, created the X-Raided, now I’m tryin’ to get rich
Ain’t that a bitch? That snitch, nothin’, nothin’
Motherfuckers mad cause they can’t make tapes
And I gotta get paid, so I can buy my 4-0
To live the atheist life that I was brainwashed to know
Niggas run up every day, wantin’ to get some
I told them who runs the motherfucker flow and then some
Win some, lose some, like a nightmare
I got enough shit on my mind, I just can’t care
I’m on the run, runnin’ from who’s-ever gun is aimin’
I’m all up in the middle of shit and ain’t even claimin’
Tryin’ to survive in the hood is hard enough
Cause them niggas already thinkin’ I’m claimin’ Creek Mobb
Trippin’ on gettin’ snuffed by the view, smoke in the Gardens
Stayin’ out the creek, cause it’s hot and hella hard to get
A dub up without gettin’ caught, and them niggas know it
Drinkin’ that 4-0 ounce, in case I’m shot, I wanna be drunk
And don’t feel it, that nigga, that nigga that raised the shit
Raised a Crip, but really can’t fade the shit no more
But out of respect, I just can’t gangbang
I’m in it 24 deep, you got funk? Then nigga, slang
[X-Raided’s “Fuckin Wit a Psycho”]
(“Based on the fact I put it on the motherfuckin’ four…”)
(“They know I’m crazy, but they just didn’t get convicted…”)
(“Based on the fact I put it on the motherfuckin’ four…”)
(“Just another day in the life of a psycho…”)
(“Based on the fact I put it on the motherfuckin’ four…”)
(“Just another day in the life of a psycho…”)
(“Based on the fact I put it on the motherfuckin’ four…”)
(“Just another day in the life of a psycho…”)

[Verse 2: Brotha Lynch Hung]
Drinkin’ while I’m sittin’ in my room with the lights off
Voices in my head, tellin’ me, “Nigga, that’s fucked up!”
X is doin’ time, so he can’t get got, but now I’m
Livin’ up in the deuce and I can still get shot
So I’mma slang ’em, slang ’em like a motherfuckin’ half-ounce
Trippin’ off the four ounce, the four to the fuckin’ ounce
To the bounce, every gat, but I’mma still put some work in
Wearin’ black in the deuce, a nigga lurkin’, full of juice
Bought from the wretched, the X-Raided, settin’ ’em flex
Waited, that nigga had to murder before he made it
Now he’s doin’ 30 to death row
He said he always wanted the devil to have his soul
Young nigga, I wish I coulda told him what was up
Fuckin’ with the so-called devil will get you fucked
I woulda told him, that nigga, he killin’ the bitches all the time
But never knew that nigga would murder and try to ditch a crime
I never knew, I heard of a nigga that snitched, but now the sign
Is every fool that deals with the devil is through
Me, I’m a psycho, me Mama might go ill when she find out
Her baby’s makin’ criminals, that nigga, that mic’ man critical
That nigga that lynched, that critical criminal hinges on the loose
So whoever I knocked, you think I’m down, I got the juice
Now all I need is a motherfuccin’ Glock, D
Up in the block and in the Creek, livin’ 24 deep
[X-Raided’s “Fuckin Wit a Psycho”]
(“Based on the fact I put it on the motherfuckin’ four…”)
(“They know I’m crazy, but they just didn’t get convicted…”)
(“Based on the fact I put it on the motherfuckin’ four…”)
(“Just another day in the life of a psycho…”)
(“Based on the fact I put it on the motherfuckin’ four…”)
(“Just another day in the life of a psycho…”)
(“Based on the fact I put it on the motherfuckin’ four…”)
(“Just another day in the life…”)

[Verse 3: Brotha Lynch Hung]
Droppin’ it like this, sittin’ in the crib, 12 o’clock
Half-lit, lookin’ for a Glock, so I stop
By the phone it’s ringin’ and I wanted a gat
It’s X-Raided, he made it to the hood, nigga, where you at?
That nigga said, “‘Round the corner at the pay phone”
“I got the dank, I got the crew and the nine, loc, you know it’s on”
Let it be known, I’m a motherfuckin’ psycho from the deuce
And all my other niggas got the same juice
But when it comes to trustin’ niggas, I can’t fade it
Frontin’ niggas like a game, so I played it
Half-dead fools got me gang-related
A new nigga wanna kill me every day, shit
For every nigga that pull a Glock on me
I’m not dyin’, nigga, that’s not gon’ be
I keep tryin’ to get myself up out this shit
But all the niggas I know still gon’ be claimin’ me Crip
I’m not trippin’, whenever they want the flow, they go
My niggas all know the antidote’ll be smokin’ a nigga’s dome
So until I die, that’s how it’s gon’ be, in the blocc
24th Street, nigga, livin’ 24 deep