RBL Posse

RBL Posse - Sorta Likea Psycho lyrics

Your rating:

[Black C]

Sorta like a psycho, a nigga just might go

Spray the whole town cuz a nigga is a schizo

Little freaky deetch try to say a nigga mean

But I'm sprayin punk ass with my Uzi machine

(What you gonna do that shit fo?), lay your punk ass 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 mothafuckin mac

Or my deuce deuce, mothafuckin call it what you want to

(I call my shit a gun), well I call my shit the make-room

Mothafucka Mothafucka mothafucka pretty soon

Since you're on my fuckin penis

why don't you drop to your fuckin knees

Bow wow wow yipee yo yipee yipee yeah

Bark like a dog and just make my mothafuckin day, nigga

Ya fuckin wit the wrong one, psycho ass lunatic

nigga that is all wrong

B-L-A-C-K-C, my mothafuckin name

I put up the deuce deuce so pull out my 12 gauge

Boom boom boom I watch the nigga head fall off

Then I hit the cuts with my mothafuckin sawed off

Duck while the body rot, nigga still on the plot

But next time, I use my mothafuckin Glock



[chorus]

To the old school nigga where I'm known the most

Hunter's Point, give it up smooth



Knick knack paddy wack, give a bitch a crack sack

While I'm up in the cuts, blowin off niggas backs

But it ain't no thang, my bitch in the dope game

And I gotta ride, kill, and maintain my mothafuckin biz wax

A nigga's fin to get tax, a nigga goin mad, they call me mad max

A mothafuckin rebel (a crazy ass basket) 

Punk mothafucka just call me Charles Manson

Tear it off bro, (man wit the funk flow, give it up smooth)

Is my mothafuckin 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 mothafuckin back door

I'm fin to straight chill wit a fat sack of indo

Bitch gimme some mothafuckin zig zags ho

Now I got my zig zags, 40 ounce and watchin mad

Shoes all muddy, and pants filled wit green grass

But I'm not trippin, a nigga gotta kill time

Went to the closet, and pulled out my 9

Stepped went crept to the mothafuckin window

The gun in the right hand, the left one indo

But the course is clear I'm fin to take a chill pill

Fuck that shit gimme a break down before I get ill



[Chorus]



I'm startin off my last verse, five niggas in a herse

Fuckin wit me should've checked his fuckin head first

I pulled out the U to the Z to the I

Punk mothafuckas weren't prepared for the homicide

Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat same damn thing

Got four in the head and one in the nigga 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

Cuz the villian on the under is about to flow

I'm a nigga 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 cuz I'm a product of a violent society

And that's the why the shit 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 niggas get burned



[Chorus]
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found