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lirik lagu sorta like a psycho – rbl posse

(black c)
sorta like a psycho, a n-gg- just might go
spray the whole town ’cause a n-gg- is a schizo
little freaky deetch try to say a n-gg- mean
but i’m sprayin punk -ss with my uzi machine
(what you gonna do that sh-t fo?), lay your punk -ss on the floor
so you wanna be captain save a hoe?
rat-a-tat rat-a-rat rat-a-tat-tat
(is that a cap gun?), no it’s my mothaf-ckin mac
or my deuce deuce, mothaf-ckin call it what you want to
(i call my sh-t a gun), well i call my sh-t the make-room
mothaf-cka mothaf-cka mothaf-cka pretty soon
since you’re on my f-ckin p-n-s
why don’t you drop to your f-ckin knees
bow wow wow yipee yo yipee yipee yeah
bark like a dog and just make my mothaf-ckin day, n-gg-
ya f-ckin wit the wrong one, psycho -ss lunatic
n-gg- that is all wrong
b-l-a-c-k-c, my mothaf-ckin name
i put up the deuce deuce so pull out my 12 gauge
boom boom boom i watch the n-gg- head fall off
then i hit the cuts with my mothaf-ckin sawed off
duck while the body rot, n-gg- still on the plot
but next time, i use my mothaf-ckin glock

(chorus)
to the old school n-gg- where i’m known the most
hunter’s point, give it up smooth

knick knack paddy wack, give a b-tch a crack sack
while i’m up in the cuts, blowin off n-gg-s backs
but it ain’t no thang, my b-tch in the dope game
and i gotta ride, kill, and maintain my mothaf-ckin biz wax
a n-gg-‘s fin to get tax, a n-gg- goin mad, they call me mad max
a mothaf-ckin rebel (a crazy -ss basket)
punk mothaf-cka just call me charles manson
tear it off bro, (man wit the funk flow, give it up smooth)
is my mothaf-ckin moto
but i see the blue and white suits wanna get me
and i’m not goin out like my boy tony t
bring em on bring em on bring em, i’m fin to hit the cuts and i’m
feelin shake and bake em
tippy tippy toe to my mothaf-ckin back door
i’m fin to straight chill wit a fat sack of indo
b-tch gimme some mothaf-ckin zig zags ho
now i got my zig zags, 40 ounce and watchin mad
shoes all muddy, and pants filled wit green gr-ss
but i’m not trippin, a n-gg- gotta kill time
went to the closet, and pulled out my 9
stepped went crept to the mothaf-ckin window
the gun in the right hand, the left one indo
but the course is clear i’m fin to take a chill pill
f-ck that sh-t gimme a break down before i get ill

chorus

i’m startin off my last verse, five n-gg-s in a herse
f-ckin wit me should’ve checked his f-ckin head first
i pulled out the u to the z to the i
punk mothaf-ckas weren’t prepared for the homicide
rat-a-tat rat-a-tat same d-mn thing
got four in the head and one in the n-gg- layin
and if they didn’t know me right now
then they’ll never ever ever ever know me
(mr.cee)
so you should’ve be listenin from the get go
’cause the villian on the under is about to flow
i’m a n-gg- that moves in silence
and i get a head rush in the midst of violence
a lot of people don’t think highly
the reason ’cause i’m a product of a violent society
and that’s the why the sh-t goes
why go to a wholesale when i can jack you for your gold
and it don’t matter if you’re ten pounds bigger
you’ll just fall harder when i pull this trigger
yeah there’s a lesson to be learned
but no one took notes, so n-gg-s get burned

chorus

- rbl posse

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