How We Comin' (southern Fried Mix)

Huh, yeah this is that shit. That shit you all been waitin for. That

Shit that slap yo mama like she the average stank hoe bitch. (I'm

Comin!)

Can't you smell them bodies gettin fried (I'm comin!)

Oooooh, you ain't never lied (How we comin'!)

Somebody said we comin hella high (How we comin!)

Oooooh, you ain't never lied (juss sit back an peep nigga)

(I'm comin)

Check these flows we deliver

Makin the hardest rapper shiver

When a killa touch the mic, I'm givin him blows

To the brain like Mike and despite

Them faulty ass niggaz who try to cross me

Smel of coffee, 'cause it's burnin

I'm gettin that money like Mike Vernon

While ya learin, we teachin, you reapin

What yo soul, see the whole load is gettin heavy

Now ya ready, to pull a lick

I'm pullin a switch

Pullin yo black mask down

I put my fuckin mash down so now

You know that dog in me

Maybe that hog in me

Got me runnin around town wit no love an actin thuggishly

But ruggidly I'm comin

My nigga Ric Roc passed the glock, now we dumpin

We dumpin

Comin, pumpin

Brain waves wit no assumptions

I'm ready to ruin somethin

If you want it, come get it I'm bumpin

Wigs, get split quick, fuckin wit this, you don't understand

This ain't yo average man

Matter fact I'm a buck, buck, buckin

An leavin you shell struck an I'm dumpin yo ass wit precussions

No disscussions, juss bustin 9 millimeters disperstin

And the worse you been cursed, in a hearse and

Watchin all you extersions

Lay down to your knees and your worryin

Evaporatin for purgerin, an disturbin 'em

Hit the nerve and then

We sweet swervin

Back to the hood to get a lil bit mo pervin.

I'm one of the fresh mutha fuckas tattooed for the murderin

And didn't nobody have to go and bury him.

I'm walkin down the street wit a glock

An my loons ain't to be played in this game

Nigga I'm hurtin 'em.

Oooh. Most deceiving to the soul. Negros will come from near and far,

Juss to find out who we are. We are... RBL. Big Lurch, Hitman, Mystikal,

This is how we comin.

Now who these niggaz who's always frontin

Like talkin behind our back

Scared to confront the strap, we can let it all react

Or we can take 10 paces back, and watch your brains collapse

Or we can handle this like gentlemen and juss scrap

Try and cross me like longitude, latitude

I show no gratitude to another nigga wit an attitude

I gets to taggin fools

Hittin roofs like, Rictor Rooter

You get dumped calls, I make house calls like Roto-Rooter

Hoes be ridin my dick like a scooter

Maybe 'cause we swerve

Fuck around wit these hoes on the curb

While I get the bullets reserved

The nerve

Somebody's always tryin to tell me what my title bout

Get served, it don't take like rocket scientist to figure this out

When I emerge, I'm on like National Geographics when I have this

My clicks got graphics like Sega Saturn which is only like 32-bits

Blow you to bits

These pieces is bad for your health

So put a quarter in yo ass, 'cause you played your self.

Nasty vomit, mildew, rottin I'm the violentest

I make the most advanced hightech state of the art rapper sound childish

No matter how hard you try, you can't come no where round us

Even if you scream at the top of your lungs (AHHH!)

I'm a still be the loudest

HAAAAAAAAA!

Wildest

Hand full of niggaz ain't gonna get hurt

Rest of y'all niggaz gettin dimolished

Red peppers and hot tamales

It's the nigga that's gonna be tighter than grip plyers

Cussin like Richard Pryor

I came down here, fixin to bust yo head

Don't try an sleep on me nigga, you gonna have nightmares bout what I

Said

Mouths get busted

Ooh you know you gonna get rushed

Nigga put it together, wiped out and brushed up

Comin from the bottom of sound elevation to the occassion

This ain't no fuckin past time

BITCH THIS AN OCCUPATION!

So fool what you talkin bout, where my money?

Or wit my fist down yo mutha fuckin throat.... HOW I BE COMIN!!

An I swam, all the way from the shark infested waters of New Orleans, to

The Golden Gate Bridge, an I've never seen playas like this. Spittin

Game all the way from Dallas, Texas, all the way to Alabama. Hate, money

And Ric Roc. We have Big Lurch, RBL, and that nigga Mystikal. BATCH! Ha.

I'm comin!

How we comin!