I Heard That Song B4 lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
Madseicc 'til I mothaf*ckin' die!
Let me get a little Strange
Thing is, thin kids, you know, that's what it's for, you know what I mean?
Every time I hear some sh*t, n*ggas sound more and more like me
Makes me wanna quit this sh*t
But uh, I'ma do it like this

[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
Try to find me, it's like I'm Chinese
Somewhere in China, they minor, them n*ggas die easy
Them n*ggas whiners, I'll make 'em red as the 49ers
Leave 'em dead, cut off the head, n*gga, I'm a potent rymer
I'm a pokish rifle, give 'em an eyeful, I'm a sniper
Nobody like her, she c*cks back, snaps like a viper
I'm into makin' n*ggas quit the game, split ya brain, hit ya gang
n*ggas don't know what happened, look at the picture frame
I'm 5150 mixed with cocaine, ptomaine poisoning
Put your boys in it, after you get ate, they get the same
I'm insane, something's stuck in my membrane, it's them thangs
Told me tuck 'em and then change clothes, change shoes
Range rove, your brain froze, they lose, they know
I could rip a n*gga to smithereens
I snake when I slither in then I'ma get my b*tch to get the keys
Ain't that a b*tch, that n*gga sounds like a Mini-Me, I'm tellin' you
[Chorus]
Yeah, I heard that song before, I heard it somewhere
No other rappers rap like The Four, is he an impostor?
I just want you n*ggas to know, you got a thin roster
I'ma eat 'em up like shrimp, lobsters, impostors
I heard that song before, I swear, I heard it somewhere
No other rappers rap like The Four, is he an impostor?
I just want you n*ggas to know, you got a thin roster
Shoot 'em up and leave their mothaf*ckin' heads in pasta

[Verse 2: C-Lim]
Is it true n*gga? You wanna feud?
Yeah, this is about you, n*gga
It's a truce, but if I spit what I knew
Your career could go poof, n*gga
You clearly disrespected the homies
What you said is baloney
The truth is that you’re respected by none, protected by homies
And you a b*tch, you a b*tch and you a b*tch
And I don’t give a f*ck who it is, I ain’t new to this
When I see you I'ma take flight like stewardess
Tried to do a diss, you got a lot of nerve
Acting like you put in a lot of work, I did a lot of dirt
They’ll find you murked with your head missing and your body burnt
'Cause a lot of words that you say are mines
I don't ask much, just say I'll ride
They say I’m fake, they say I died
But everything that they say are lies
And you plagiarized Brotha Lynch Hung
n*ggas know where you get your sh*t from
That ain’t a biz, homie, we was the sh*t, homie
Then you flipped on us like a flip phone
Did a diss song, n*gga, this Madesicc
Every n*gga in the click bang Crip
And the one’s that don’t is Strange
f*ck rapping, we could arrange sh*t
f*ck that, we could rearrange cribs
When I bust straps you see the flame lit
Stuff crackin and the paint lifting
I'm tryna come back, could read my name in it
[Chorus]
Yeah, I heard that song before, I heard it somewhere
No other rappers rap like The Four, is he an impostor?
I just want you n*ggas to know, you got a thin roster
I'ma eat 'em up like shrimp, lobsters, impostors
I heard that song before, I swear, I heard it somewhere
No other rappers rap like The Four, is he an impostor?
I just want you n*ggas to know, you got a thin roster
Shoot 'em up and leave their mothaf*ckin' heads in pasta

[Verse 3: Tall Cann G]
Yeah n*gga, this a Madesicc, we got ‘em all sick
Fall back quick, we'll just take it to the basic
You’re gonna get left faceless
Got a gangsta in your face
I get up close and personal, stick you at random
I’ll pick 'em, can’t be choosy, unload the Uzi
Put the whole banana clip up in your booty
Speaking on The Made, n*gga, you is a real b*tch
On some c*cky sh*t
I got the hockey mask on
Chases through the woods, n*gga
Let you have it in the hood, n*gga
Anywhere I’m good, n*gga
Off the dome, I’m on your dome
Deer hunter, skin him and gut him
Concrete or jungle, or the wilderness
21st Street Garden n*ggas some animals
Eating you up alive, jumping in the frying pan
I'll still fry your guts like Sizzlean
Then take my medication, ain’t no hesitation
I been on the grizzind, pushing the lizzine
n*gga don’t even cross mines
[Chorus]
Yeah, I heard that song before, I heard it somewhere
No other rappers rap like The Four, is he an impostor?
I just want you n*ggas to know, you got a thin roster
I'ma eat 'em up like shrimp, lobsters, impostors
I heard that song before, I swear, I heard it somewhere
No other rappers rap like The Four, is he an impostor?
I just want you n*ggas to know, you got a thin roster
Shoot 'em up and leave their mothaf*ckin' heads in pasta

[Verse 4: COS]
sh*t, I’m Madesicc, sick in the head, spit with the lead
‘Til a n*gga blood stick to the bed, zip what they said
They be talking too much, they never shut up
'Til the people out there chalking 'em up
Cleaning their blood up, n*gga what up
I nut up, I'll leave a n*gga cut up
I'll hit a n*gga crib up or hit a n*gga cut up
I'll stick a n*gga sl*t up, I'll make her spit her blood up
Them n*ggas call me cupid, I'll split a n*gga love up
Put murder on a loop, I hit the loot then throw the cup up
Them n*ggas sweet as fruit, that talking cute gon’ get you f*cked up
I’m nothing like you, dude, I’m not a perv, I don’t just flash it
I pull it out and blast it 'til they’re closing the casket
I'll bloody up the mattress, you shouldn’t play with matches
That sh*t'll get you burned up, I'll burn your face up like some acid
Tie you up in this sack zip, you n*ggas make me that sick
Like I need extra pills and extra bottles just to hack it
Or I might use the hatchet, get blood all on my jacket
Then hop up in the getaway and swing it like a racket
Them voices in my head just keep screaming, it’s some racket
And they gon’ drive me crazy, double crazy, maniac-ish

[Chorus]
Yeah, I heard that song before, I heard it somewhere
No other rappers rap like The Four, is he an impostor?
I just want you n*ggas to know, you got a thin roster
I'ma eat 'em up like shrimp, lobsters, impostors
I heard that song before, I swear, I heard it somewhere
No other rappers rap like The Four, is he an impostor?
I just want you n*ggas to know, you got a thin roster
Shoot 'em up and leave their mothaf*ckin' heads in pasta