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lirik lagu psypher 1 – psychopathic family

[bootleg]
welcome to the psypher. yeah. yeah. yeah
snitches love to hear my name over their police scanners
i should be dessert b-tch i’m nuts and bananas
show somebody f-cking with the hatchet i don’t know man
if them boys beast what the f-ck that make me conan
i’m a monster tougher than a tonka
your boy’s sweet f-ck it call him w-lly wonka
axe to the forehead bats to the cranium
bootleg’s an animal there ain’t no restraining him
most rappers are p-ssy i smoke em like a cigarette
b-tch talking sh-t but gettin’ beat up by a juggalette
it’s about to rain hatchet house make it flood
how the f-ck is you a k!ller when you’re really scared of blood
stop playin’ b-tch before i come to where you live
murder you and all the kids then burn down the crib
who want what with who
ain’t no denyin’ i’m a lion b-tch i’m running zoo
catch me tunin’ at the strip club doin’ the do
sippin’ a brew relaxin’ twenty-two on my shoe
i succeed y’all fail i win y’all lose
i’m up y’all down you red i’m blue
i’m a winner you a loser you stop i’m go
i’m the answer and all you is is i don’t know
why you shootin’ at the stars i’m tryna walk on the moon
and homie hatin’ is a sickness hope you get well soon
(whoop whoop)

[violent j]
fatness is my belly and beats and ego
most hated everywhere we go
but life’s questions the answers we know
as sure as t-tty dancers need blow
so say h-llo to the bad guy
we k!lling this sh-t you can’t lie
i be the v-i-o oh no
l-e-n-t i’m no ho
sh-ggy and me so close
on mdp photos
out sew your b-tt shut till your guts split
full of sh-t i won’t be f-cked with
my spit is like acid lava
burn through your head ask your papa
battle the clown i’m fast to drop ya
a southwest gangster p-ss the chopper
you don’t remember me in high school cause i wasn’t there
a loser millionaire
how the f-ck can that be
i’ll smack your pappy
i’m never happy
why the f-ck you lookin’ at me
somebody slap me i’m ridiculous silly
plowin’ the world meet joey and billy
find me with the juggalos rollin’ a philly
it’s ‘lo love for life unless a bullet will k!ll me
but i think not on the map like an ink blot
and there’s you a g-y little pink dot
so don’t hate i’m the sachet contention
my hoes alone can have a convention
faygo b-tch gas in the engine
we deserve something way past dimension

[anybody k!lla]
uh fat knocks and pop rocks on my block
bust shots at fake cops like non stop
abk but you can call me k!ller
native on the war path ain’t no realer
psychopath will leave you in a blood bath
everybody on our d-ck that’s why the world’s chapped
middle finger in the air for them haters
because i always kick it with the greatest
hatchets up
old school with the brand new monframe
college dorm room bumpin’ like a soul train
if you ain’t down the the fam then you insane
bob your head to this hatchet sh-t get brains
this ain’t nothin’ new
i’ll have your momma shaking t-tties in her living room
when you’re daddy’s at work i’ll be stoppin’ through
gettin’ all of her attention cause that’s how i do
man detroit’s my home the murder myth fits
if you f-ckin’ with the club then you better come equipped
when you see the hatchet man you better represent
and i should never ever ever have to say that sh-t again

[jamie madrox]
yo stats to get me steep but real like pocket cash
cause jamie spits so nice they wanna beat my f-ckin’ -ss
welcome to my craft jenna’s -ss
head too big to fit your hat
so you need a flex fit stay fitted yes i’m fat
you stay frontin’ yes i’m back annihilate an attack
one that’s in my pack gets bashed and wigs peeled
put your bumper in your back seat and you through your wind shield
you ain’t no home run b-tch and i’m more than an out field
homie this ain’t no hobby of mine
and man your woman hands me pencil because i grind
true grit and john wayne is far from the lint
cause i rather save the bullets and light you up with the spit
know what i mean no coffee i’m all about the cream
i serve them like ice cube and do ’em no vaseline
thinkin’ they better than me and i tell them maybe in dreams
cause one line of mine better than they sixteen
you’re f-ckin’ with a creep that’ll k!ll you off in your sleep
like elm st. and freddy krueger was an mc
no peace

[outro – everyone]
no peace! no peace! no peace! whoop whoop! no peace!

- psychopathic family

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