Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lunatics In The Grass, artist - B-Real. Date of issue: 29.09.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Lunatics In The Grass |
| Straight from the Psycho Ward |
| Once again |
| Verse One: B-Real |
| Psycho from the ward, a warning, a fucking scandal |
| Lookin' around, paranoid devoid the funk banner |
| In the combat, the banana leaf control |
| A sea, bring a pound of weed and get sold |
| You going crazy, can’t understand |
| Why you never face me? |
| Don’t foil the plan! |
| Head-to-head combat, I’m on that mission |
| You wishin' to disappear? |
| Some mission is closin' near! |
| Sick-o! |
| Strumming through the hall, yes y’all! |
| Hear the call to the D.A., fucking D-E-A |
| They all wanna raid my spot and take hits |
| But I’m breakin' that L.A. Law like Jimmy Sprits |
| Insane, crazy in the head it’s lead! |
| I’m loco, 'til I’m dead, enough said! |
| Actions allowing the words to barrage in |
| From having all the way down, to the depths of Hell |
| You hear me? |
| Lunatic in the grass, lost |
| You a psycho, like my nigga Jack Frost? |
| Looney, lunatic turned sick |
| Psycho, crazy in the head, I go |
| Can’t keep my head straight from the laws I break |
| You too, y’all twistin' up my mind state! |
| Verse Two: Jacken |
| For those who really don’t understand |
| Why we, going insane, just acting crazy! |
| Buggin' now from, all the things I see |
| All tread bad and I meant in 3D |
| We be the psycho doers, turned killers |
| Only to survive all these street cop killers |
| I’ll tell ya now, nobody’s everlasting |
| Even if you try, but you laugh it won’t be subtracting |
| It ain’t no thing but mad |
| You better give it up, you steppin' to a psychopath |
| Game over, I’m intoxicated, never sober |
| When one steps up, I’m poisonous like a deadly cobra! |
| The only reason why I say this |
| Is because y’all breakin' this (?) got me tripping |
| One can only maintain, for so long |
| 'Til all the screws in your head are loose and worn |
| Now you’re the (?) straight psycho remain nameless |
| Only known from crazy acts, making you famous |
| Verse Three: B-Real |
| I’m the locust pocus, tell me how you feel |
| When I smoke that motherfucker coming for the kill! |
| If the criminal element, unfolding |
| But the reckoning, brings settling with the metal shit |
| Breaking out the .45 sick, to get live |
| If you arrive, don’t get nervous! |
| You wanna surface |
| Sick, insane in the brain, I’m trippin'! |
| I’m sippin' on the wine, it’s all in the mind, flippin' |
| We dippin' now, you make me wanna shout |
| Talk about, my mental state |
| Think I need to rehabilitate |
| Wipe the slate, look inside your fate, can’t wait |
| But don’t you motherfuckers can’t come in the gate! |
| Get your ass on, you pass on, we blast on |
| The gats armed, shitted on the last one, c’mon! |
| Psycho assassins smashing your membrane |
| Lunatics in the grass, feeding it to your vein! |