a motherfuckin' wreck Gonna pay back niggas who did me wrong in the past My days ain't long, I'm comin' strong and fast Lock up 8 niggs, kill up 10
maintain in all reality Live with the guns to cover all the technicalitites And crush the falises taht frontin' is legit cause (real niggas don't talk shit) (X2) Psycho
new one after you achieve a goal Accomplishments are just excuses to talk and spit When you music stops, who will have a spot to sit? [Chorus 4X] Bring me the head
're counting up their spoils I'm sittin' on top of the world I turn on the TV and it makes me wanna cry There's killing and there's torture, destruction and lies Leaders talk
Daz Dillinger Talk to 'em Kurupt young Gotti Talk to 'em Big Jigga nigga, what? Come on Psycho, like no, bitch ass nigga so When you see the D O double
rags to riches all the bitches and that's all that we said Before I go I'll let you know he caught two to the head I'm a talk a little bit about the
wizard of old days Blood and thorns Pray for a quick death The sick world reborn and left in front of your doorstep Kill the killer Retribution
down} I cut the ropes (breath) Fresh cut as a pigeon blooded smoke Load bazooka Stoke the cobra coats over a broken hookah Got rabble pants with psycho
jewels That's a whole lotta moves So what's a soldier to do Standin' in his bloody boots Yeah, I'm fresh outta boot camp Ain't gotta food stamp Counterfeit bills will get you killed
So set your phasers on kill if ya will so catch the feeling Got your head a pumping a back and forth until it hits the ceiling Now I'm wheeling, dealing
You a psycho, like my nigga Jack Frost? [Chorus] Looney, lunatic turned sick Psycho, crazy in the head, I go Can't keep my head straight from the laws
is dead and you have no worries Forget ambition, fuck the vision Kill the lights and go to sleep The stalker is stalking and talking and talking Colossal
, cyberpunks Fed up killer geeks, Gigabyte Meth freaks Home alone in a world of their own Up all night in the thick of the fight Fantasy combat, veteran psychos
about it I'm so sick without it I don't want to talk about it I can't learn to live without it Down to recovery where the psychos are kept Ain't no
four men deceased But how the fuck did two bullets kill four niggas Checked out the cock and found the pilot's cranium disfigured The click, another piece to my head
ass with my gun Gimmie some, I want all your cash And get those hands in the air And don't stare And don't compare your gangster ass To a psycho stare
Of dope pain Off (?), off tracks, all heads ya dead Treasure my hard ass home until my death is red Schitzofrania runs through my viens Havin' memory lapses, I might kill
' fast like a pick...pocket See- I'm a mother-fuckin' maniac I gotta top it I talk to the bitch ... before I kill 'em I'm like a psycho like Charles