Sorta Like A Psycho (RBL Posse)

(Black C) Sorta like a psycho, a nigga just might go Spray the whole town 'cause 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 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 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 'cause 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 'cause 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