[Grisly voice]
Yeah, the Baby Killa's back up in this mother$#&@a...
Straight from tha grave,

it gets so deep right under the Garden Blocc...
Oh, me? Ya can just call me Manson...Yeah, we met before...
But ya forget that I ain't gonna die so I'm back up this mother$#&@a...

So peep the motha$#&@in' words from the dead man, yeah...

[Brotha Lynch Hung]

And when I pack me a gun and, oh, when I was young
I dreamed of feedin' them ^!$$%s soufle (soofley) a' la dunn
Mother$#&@as get hung, my bullet weights a ton

The Garden Blocc Don, the valley of the slum
Tha cannibalistic ^!$$% that got that 9 millimeter gun
That ^!$$% that ^!$$% that got them motha$#&@as on the run

They thought that I was done but Lynch is not the one
To go out from a gunshot wound, ^!$$%, I'm not done that soon
(*##$es, they come but nut just like the rest, caught one in the chest

Shoulda wore a vest and, oh, what a bloody mess
Puffin' off the cess, dealin' with the stress, killin' off the less...
Fortunate but they trip when my nine gets sick

Them ^!$$%s either die or stay stuck on my dick
Cause I'm that ^!$$% they call Lynch, I got'em ^!$$%s fiendin' for my %#@!
I empty clips, drinkin', $#&@in' with tha splift

And it's the ^!$$% that kill for reason, it's the Season Of The Sicc
That's why I got the urge to shoot that #~!!@ !@$%
And kill off that infant, so what is my intent?

To show them motha$#&@as livin' life ain't %#@!
I gets to gettin' real sick and eatin' bloody !@$%, the baby killa %#@!
Put 'em in a grave with an empty 40 ounce bottle and don't leave a drip

Cause livin' with tha Tripple-Six
Ya learn to $#&@ devil in his mouth and eat the %#@! out of his (*##$
And I admit: my brain is kinda sick

But now I'm like J. Dahmer, I'm chewin' up all the evidence
I killed to cure my fit, the human meat fix
Bitin' to the skin rips, that sick ^!$$%, so sick

Livin' dead ever since...

[Grisly voice]

Yeah, do ya wanna know what that Siccness is?
The Siccness is when you hug your mama and ya dick get hard
Or you walk in on your baby's mama and she's suckin' your son's dick

That's the motha$#&@in' Siccness...
So, ya motha$#&@as don't ya forget that %#@!...
And don't forget where the Sicc came from...

That ^!$$% Lynch...

[Brotha Lynch Hung]

I take my mouth off up that cog and trip
Cause eatin' dead #~!!@ !@$% I make ya sick
But it's the Season so my reason is legit

I'm havin' fits, I dreamed of eatin' bloody #~!!@ !@$%'s since I was six
I fiend for a dead #~!!@ on dick, I gotta skits
Meanin' I don't give a %#@! about ya biyatch

That ^!$$% that's from tha Blocc, killin' up tha cog, so, ^!$$%, shii-it
Baby barbeque ribs and guts and, ah, don't let me get too deep
Fryin' baby nuts, !@#%s get ate out alike, dank is what crooked teeth heard

I pull the Tampax-string out and straight put in work
It wouldn't work without that sick, so page a ^!$$% quick
So I can serve ya some of this %#@! and have ya murderin' ya biyatch

Cause me and Triple-Six grew up $#&@in' (*##$es up the gut
With tha 9-millimeter clip, Season of the Sicc, picture this:
#~!!@ meat ripped in a pan full of nuts and guts and intestines and %#@!

I gets ta chewin' on tha !@$%, the sick, they just don't understand it
It's so outlandish, chewin' ^!$$% nuts to cure my fit
The human meat fix, bitin' 'til the skin rips, that sick ^!$$%, so sick

Livin' dead ever since...