Lyrics Brotha Lynch Hung

Brotha Lynch Hung

Tried To Shoot

I be havin' bad dreams about doin' bad things

No money, my momma is gone, it's a sad thing

And the devil is laughin, if there was such a thing

You couldn't weigh my problems out with a human triple beam

I'm all fucked up, you might find me in the dump truck

Gin in my cup, hundred and fifty on the rough

I'm a tough act to follow, leave your chest hollow

See it ain't that tough, heat that ass up with the ralo

And hit the road, explode niggas with old vendettas

I talk alot of shit so my click pack berettas to rip back your leather

The world is cold, you could find me inside the bottle at 15 years old

I was tired of all the arguin', fussin', and fightin'

Ten years later I'm borrowin, adjusting the mic and

Try'na make it through these hard times, tellin' my problems

But who cares, everybody I know got 'em

I'm upstairs, starin' out the window drinkin O.E

I know this bottle really love me, I love you too

You be helpin' me through my problems, killin' my fears

And you understand when I break down you bring out the tears

And you give me heart, but I just can't take it

Shit's hella fucked up, bad luck, just can't shake it

Half way to the grave, half way from birth

Try'na wonder what my life is worth

I think I'm cursed

I put the gun to my head, tried to shoot

I think I'm better off dead, where's my kids?

Make sure they ain't around, tell 'em I love um

Tell 'em bend down on the ground, plug ya ears

What you hear ain't nothin' but a cartoon

A bad dream, your daddy, he comin' back soon

In another form, re-born, with some great expectations

I'ma miss you too, believe it

Got dealt some bad punches, but I'ma roll with it

Got served some bad lunches, so who can I trust?

Got love and I don't want it, who's teachin' me hate?

Got hate when I don't need it, I believe in my faith

Diagnosed manic depressive, only learned one lesson

And that's fuck it, forget it, and let it die like the rest of 'em

Battled with the best of 'em, they can't touch me

Then shadowed out the rest of 'em, you can't fuck me

Might as well go 'head and let me murder myself

Niggas got hate for me anyway, take it, it's hell

And if I see you at the funeral, I'ma reach out for you

That one up in the corner, give his ass to the coroner

He just another foreigner, all in my mix

Don't have the slightest idea how I'm feelin 'bout shit

Cuz I maintain my composure, never tellin' the plan

My brain stained in dosia, I'm tellin' you man