Review: Brotha Lynch Hung – Loaded

Brotha Lynch Hung – Loaded is the best 3/5*** rap album of 1997. The production is 5/5***** while his lyrics are 3/5. Many Brotha Lynch Hung fans had felt Brotha Lynch Hung had not rapped hard enough about hardcore explicit subject material. His fanbase felt the album was too chill and laid back to be good enough to call a timeless classic. Songs like On My Briefcase and Went Way sounded like B-Sides from Season Of Da Siccness. Songs like those are what made the Loaded album sound mediocre in contrast to the Season Of Da Siccness album

This was his more psychological album. Still Brotha Lynch Hung manages to keep this album Siccmade with his siccness and horrorcore ripgut cannibalism style of rap. This album is a must have if you are a completionist.

On My Briefcase sounded like a leftover from Season Of Da Siccness or a B-Sides album with songs recorded when Season Of Da Siccness was being produced.

That is because some of the lyrics used in this song were used in other songs. Brotha Lynch incorporates the opening line from On My Briefcase from the Mr. Doctor’s song “40 Oz and Chronic Dice” from the Settripin’ Bloccstyle album. Compare the lyrics to both songs.

(Brotha Lynch Hung verse from Mr. Doctor – 40 Oz and Chronic Dice)
On my briefcase is some crumbled weed
Buckshot shells from a dead body
Got a whole bunch a 40’s and a couple a hoes
A ’95 Fifty sittin on Trues and Vogues
Plus I had a nine in my glove compartment
Cause everywhere I go niggas love to start shit
Five pound chronic dice, in my mits
Fifteen teflons, in my clip
Heard about a lot a sick shit in the block, so
I stay locc to the brain and remain incognito
With my twenty sack a the bomb
Money back guarantee, if you hit that shit and don’t wanna kill yo’ mom
Got the clip, Glock, Chevy Impala that don’t stop
Stop the Glock, no you can’t the Doc from the gangbang nigga
So up goes yo’ trigga
Stayin high off the sinsemilla
And my nigga say

(Brotha Lynch Hung verse from On My Briefcase)
Now on my briefcase was some crumbled weed
A pack of Saravegas and a 24 ounce O.E
Might as well skeez these couple of hoes
In my 69 Malibu sitting on Trues and Vogues
For days you might have seen me in my cinnamon cut chrome shoes
With some you-can’t-see-me tint on the windows indo syndrome
Smokin’ it up, not givin’ a mutherfucking fizuck
Sold the cut, my ex-ho said “that nigga’s sqattin’ what?”
Got at the homie Carl, and got me some of that bomb
Had me so fucking high I got off like Vietnam
Dead bodies and bitches clits simmerin’ in the crockpot
And the shit don’t stop until my motherfucking chronic or high drop
It’s just that insane type of thing, let the MAC rain
Guts in the drain
Siccmade niggas, they make the world go round
And if you fuck with Siccmade Music you can get your ass gunned down

Brotha Lynch Hung raps about how he is one of the last sicc niggaz out there on One A Da Las’ Sicc Niggaz. He shows how Siccmade he is with horrorcore ripgut cannibalism style of rap. Sicc shit.

Brotha Lynch Hung is one of the last sicc niggas that you heard thus far. You can bump him at your crib or while you off that nitro in your car. But he is no superstar. But if you get high then you can feel him no matter who you are.

Brotha Lynch Hung gots to have his weed. Lord knows he’s a fiend. He come up off that weed because you done fucked around and went up on him. He wants the whole Ziploc full of shamrock. And if you’re reachin in your pocket, he’ll heat the heat and leave you in a meat locker.

Now that’s his knocka. He’s to the side with the mask on. Lynch will give you 15% percent. So if you need to get your blast on and that’s a fat zone, that’s a good start. You can it sacc and or serve it. Take it to the heart. Lynch will cut off your nuts and leave you screamin’ like a starved pig. Hold you hostage in your crib. Brotha Lynch Hung planned the whole situation out. So he got first dibs. Now bigger than life is how he comin’ out. Rigorous and vigorous if you know what I mean. You niggas know what I’m talkin’ ’bout.

He wants cheese and lettuce in his wallet. And he wants to break through like Jerome Bettis, pro status. Lynch’s point is he be in the cut trying to keep these snakes out his house.

You get the rope for fuckin’ with the Brotha Lynch Hung. Wrong information make intimidation. Have your son trippin’. Catch you on your weed high. He tore you up like a pitch bend. And he is off this Black & Mild shit. Tryin’ to relax and deal with these taxes. Hoping motherfuckin’ baby’s mama ain’t no shiesty bitch. She want some other shit. Get off the hydro tube.

Die; 1 by 1 was one of the hardest most gruesome and violent songs on the album due to subject matter, horror movie sample, and heavy bass lines in the production. Brotha Lynch Hung uses his violent controversial horrorcore ripgut cannibalism style of rap on the song.

The vocal sample which went, “DIE! Like the ones before you. One by one we will take you. You will DIE!” came from Sam Raimi’s cult classic movie. Specifically from the scene where Cheryl becomes possessed and says these words to her friends.

Siccmade Music comin up out yo seat. Catch the reaper night crawler creeper. Dig a ditch get a bitch nigga dig a ditch deeper. Brotha Lynch Hung will take you head with this street sweeper. Next he will leave your brains on your speaker and smash off in your jeep. He gets real hostile. More scratch than Lucky Luciano. He’ll serve more mutha fuckas than 7 Up.

Creep up on ya like Dunlop. Send on to ya forehead and then like they said. He fled. Because Brotha Lynch Hung is the type of nigga that’ll leave a horse head in your bed. Like the the horse head scene from The Godfather movie. He’ll take your wife rape her and no caper. He’ll tie the bitch to the bed. Don’t push Lynch because he is close to the edge. He is a real lunatic that is sicc-fed.

And that’s some sentimental shit. He just might drip cream from his dick when he’s off that Smirnoff Gin mix with OE. He is hard and wet. O.E. kept tellin’ him no but this Smirnoff Gin kept tellin’ him YES. Throw your hands over your eyes. As your thoughts intensify, you will DIE!!

Let him be the first to actually greet you to the basement. We’ve heard you’ve been busy. We’ve learn from above that you’ve been doin’ a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Stealing peoples scratch. Stabbin’ in the back. We don’t think it’s fair. Now you are nothing. Is there room for unrest?

Brotha Lynch Hung Wes Craven on paper. So plug your pussy clips. Because he gets sicker than a syphilis dick. And yo mama won’t like this shit. Razor blade and alcohol. Swarztanigga ceremonial rips neck. So feel yo insides and yo intestines when you mix with Lynch. He’s got this endo suckin him dry. He’s got this slut bitch suckin him dry. Bout to wet the bed up. It was the perfect setup. Bloody sheets. No body and no murder weapon. You don’t know about lynch’s whereabouts.

Some of his hardest lyrics to this album can be heard in this song. Especially with lyrics such as “Cause I’m the type of nigga that’ll leave a horse head in ya bed”. Now that’s hardcore, explicit, sick, and fowl. Not to mention disgusting and repulsive.

I rate this album 3/5***!

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Writer, narrator, researcher, and content curator for Bout Dat Online.

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