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Artist: Brotha Lynch Hung f/ C-Lim, G-Macc
Album:  Dinner and a Movie
Song:   Colostomy Bag
Typed by:

Let's do it!
Dinner and a Movie!
I'm back, nigga!
That's what it is!

[Verse 1]
Yeah, I might as well get wet, give me a Newport
I'm a little strange now, on fire like the Human Torch
I'm just gettin' warmed up, ain't nobody can fuck with me
Even Luckily get cut in three, I'm a fuckin' beast
I'll tuck a .357 and it keep me revvin', Mr. Techron
Pure white cocaine spit, not even stepped on
Sorta like Blue Magic, the pussy, I stab at it
And stab at it, I'm a addict, it bleeds when I tap it
Manic-depressive and if you test Mann, it's a lesson
Plan to get your chest ripped, damn Smith & Wesson
And it will test him, hand it to Kevin, cannibal sessions
Van full of intestines, Kansas is with me
Strange Music is with him, I think they re-lit him
I still seasick 'em from long distance, for instance
I get with 'em, I spit sick shit, sniffin' cocaine

[Chorus: G-Macc (C-Lim)] (x2)
Coathanger, throat struh-strangler
Your folks get mangled up, cut 'em up from the navel
(Uh, put you in the hospital fast, have you wearin' a oxygen mask)
(With the doctors in surgery, gettin' a colostomy bag)

[Verse 2]
My whole cigarette's wet, I'm 'bout to smoke it
Get hard like East Oakland, rappers, I super-soak 'em
After your crew get over 'em, I'll be standin' over 'em
With a 9-millimeter, hit 'em like a wide receiver
Like Jerry Rice, them niggas think I'm weak 'cause I'm very nice
All I do is just think about eatin' 'em every night
So I gotta carry every knife, every machete
I'm steadily deadly, his head'll be buried
And gettin' cut up, I'll be at the motel, fucked up
Blood in my cup with a fine bitch, hugged up
'Til my heart get plugged up
I'ma still be in my Dickies shit, thugged up
Any nigga throwin' up blood, throwin' up guts, nigga, what's what?
We kinda strange, nigga, we eat nigga nuts and guts
You already know what I eat, your insides
And break down your enzymes and take out your insides
Sniffin' cocaine

[Chorus: G-Macc (C-Lim)] (x2)

[Verse 3]
I need a cigarette, I'll cut a nigga neck
And watch the blood drip out, hit 'em with a TEC
Just like these niggas wanna fuck my bitch, let 'em sweat
She'll smile at you and she'll cut your motherfuckin' neck
I'll hang a nigga and strangle niggas with barbed wire
It's a little strange, but listen to what I desire
I put the tools on they nuts, twist it with the pliers
I'm a hot rod, you a hot dog, like Oscar Mayers
I drop logs, nigga, shittin' like diarrhea
You get the butcher knife to the eyes if you try to see him
Either that or my bitch will see you right at the club
And put the whoopty-whop in your mug and your grave's dug
I got it made, cuz, makin' strange music to listen to
And dissin' you, 'cause that how Strange do it
We sicker than hard liquor, which is no thing
Coathanga Strangla, spittin' the cocaine, nigga

[Chorus: G-Macc (C-Lim)] (x2)