Psycho

Yo, hey, yo, hey, yo

Yo, man 5'4
Cut you like Michael
Shot up your vehicle
Better call GEICO
Why would you think that I care if you like me?
You're just a self conscious, clout chasing, hype beast

Twist it, bop it, I got a rocket
That boy thought he could out draw me
Drop it, I'm in the mosh pit
(Mayday) cockpit, give me the stick
'Cause I might just mop him

Cut his liver and eat it for dinner
Chop him and toss his limbs into the river
Dexter magic
Wrap it, stab it
Cut up the body

Pack it
Sawed into him
Now there's blood on the ceiling
I can't feel bad because I have no feelings
Blade to neck and his head started leaning
Skinned him right to the bone while he was sleeping

I might drop him if he flinch
Run up on me, might get lynched
I might drop him if he flinch
Run up on me, might get lynched

I might drop him if he flinch
Run up on me, might get lynched
I might drop him if he flinch
Run up on me, might get lynched
(This awful raging)

Anybody who crosses me, end you, dead
I might put seven rounds in your head
Strap up my truck and blow up all the feds
I am not crazy, I'm just off my meds

Anybody who crosses me, end you, dead
I might put seven rounds in your head
Strap up my truck and blow up all the feds
I am not crazy, I'm just off my meds



Credits
Writer(s): Darold D. Brown, Daniel Seeff, Khalil Abdul-rahman, Sam Barsh, Daniel Tannenbaum, Jeffrey Gitelman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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