Lyrics:
(Violent J talking)
"Yea...everyday...everyday..psychopathic everyday...eh yo Twin Gats where you at boy?" "I'm Psychopathic Rydin'" "yea, alright
on this lyrical high real quick
1993 exoticness, know what I'm sayin'?
Let's get technical, where's your bone at?
Get up on that shit, aight?
Yo
on TV"
One night, Meek and I meet up at a
Seafood restaurant not far from his hotel
Where we are joined at the
Last minute by Rick Ross
His longtime
means I get to feel something.
Hail to the king.
Hell walks this earth
And it dwells beneath my skin.
Born of a dying mother and a violent father,
I'll
I was just a little girl
Skinny legs, a press and curl
My mother always thought I'd be a star
But way before my record deal,
The streets that
Psychopathic needs of intervention
Keep calloused hands, crawling, in your general direction
Psychopathic appeals for attention
It hurts when I'm
Lions in the street and roaming
Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming
A beast caged in the heart of a city
The body of his mother
Rotting in the summer
Stretch died
I just got out of his ride
He dropped me off and drove to Springfield
November thirtieth, another Queens king killed
It fucked me up, y'all
some bricks stashed in the 6
And now the perfect time to hit the lick
He knew that all the shit belonged to Rick
The bangas loaded ready for the risk
Yo, I'm finna put this shit down
For my mother fuckin rydas
Foe Foe, Cell Block, Full Clip, Bullet
The game ain't go love ya'll
I got two words,
to God, I goes on.. the little Don
Smooth and fantastic as I get drastic
Shake your brain mentally and psychopathic
I murder with the brain of Hitler
no doubt
Psychopathic killa' looking just to pull the trigga'
I dismember your liver and cut out your innards
Godzilla, red chinchilla
Some of these
chick
Number one fly with your number one kick
When it's all done then your number gon' switch
You lookin at Atilla
The psychopathic killer,
was feeling blue
I said-a, "Don't cry (dry your eye)
Here comes your mother with those two little guys"
Her mean mother stepped up, said to me (hi)
on the inside
I'm taking emcee crowns another one off the line
Cause whats mine is mine and yours is mine
A wickedness in lyrics not seen by the likes of many
mother
I pull a forty out and pour some for your little brother
I'm steady staring at your sister, I'll tell you this
You know for only 13, she got some
"Well, actually, Dwight, I'd recommend having your mother killed by one. After that happened I developed a rather keen interest in the subject, you know?"
the flames yea i keeps it hot
Catch me getting low burning in a vacant lot
Bang bang bang i'm in your speaker box
Couple bands by my lonely yea my speakerz
in your party yeah (Yeah) well I'm that mother fucker
Feeling horny a bit naughty yeah (Yeah) I'm that mother fucker
And I love to smoke that ganja
a disgrace
Or you're gonna wind up gettin' stabbed in the face
And chopped up with a mother fuckin' hatchet
By a real true blue sick psychopathic
Cuz your boys
tripping and get me pissed
I'd have to walk up and bust him in his fucking lips!
It's dinner time, we hearing grace from your mother
I pull a forty out
said "Why you turned on me? I was posed to be ya brother" (I was)
How the fuck you switch on me and you know I know your mother? (You know)
Your own
pretend I'm safer in the madhouse
Clinging to the selene like a spider
I'm out of your mind like frozen fire
Razorblade fingers scratchin my neck
Lost in
can hear them yell
You say all is just and that all is well
Manifest the demon to escape from this cell
Lucrative
Fugitive
Psychopathic
Mother fucker
.jpg/240px-Rick_Springfield_5-09-2014_-7_(14150002904).jpg "Rick Springfield")
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