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