| Knick knack patty, I’m never comin wack
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| But the minute that you hear me, you yell, «Get off the crack»
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| I don’t know, I guess it be my thought process
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| Fifty below the level, of conciousness
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| S.O.S., ring the alarm, red alert
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| When I’m rhymin, sound the siren, the whole works (Why?)
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| Cause they consider me M-A-D
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| Alfred E. Neuman got nuttin on me Public Enemy No. 1, now they got me in a cell
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| Living hell, yeah that be my life
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| Cause mind don’t matter, so I apply mind over matter
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| while they mull matter over mind
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| A threat to mankind, refer to me as subject A Got me pissin in a cup, all day
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| Mad people, all up in my cerebral
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| Oh shit, what the fuck you doin with that needle?
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| Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
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| «Almost certainly a psychosomatic condition»
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| «What is really wrong with the patient?»
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| What the. |
| confined to my bed cause I’m strapped in Catscan cause they wanna know what’s happenin
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| Mentally, physically, to subject B that’s showin signs of the M-A-D-Man, posessed
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| cause no rest for the wicked
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| I kick it, I-double-L cause I’m twisted
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| Sadistic, a threat to society, I’m locked up in this nuthouse, cause I’m about to blow up Restrained, to maintain my composure
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| Sanity, but they can’t, too much calamity!
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| So they wait. |
| then attack.
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| I’m too exhausted to even fight back
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| I swear, the end is near, I can feel it My fate. |
| will they seal it? |