| Yeah homie
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| I thought we told we been fuckin’loco
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| Cypress Hill, D12 bitch
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| I’m a little bit off the chain, call me insane
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| But the fact remains that I’m a psycho
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| Better get it through your brain
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| When you say my name, never say it in vain cause I’m a psycho
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| We fuckin’crazy
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| We’ll fuckin’snap in a minute bitch
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| I’m a motherfuckin’omen, I bow down to no man
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| Split a nigga open, killin’folks compulsive
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| A soldier with a motive, scrotum big as boulders
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| I hold 'em then unload on you, put it on a poster
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| So everyone can notice who was focused on us Pokin’they nose in our business, hopin’that I don’t come smoke 'em
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| No one knows my notions or emotions, I’m a vulture
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| You niggaz close to croakin’any moment and I know when
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| I could fuck the culture up, probably rap
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| A maniac wit’anxiety attacks, I don’t wanna chat
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| Speak when you spoken to And I don’t have to read a fuckin’magazine or quotable
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| To notice what you ho’s will do We all soldiers
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| We move as a unit, we all roll up And show up at your residence, light your front door up Get scared, life ain’t fair
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| And I’m prepared to blast you just as fast as Dre can say Hell yeah
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| So watch what you say
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| cause it can happen either today or the next minute
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| I can draw the heater and spray and I’m dead serious
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| You could be dead period, end of story
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| I’m on your porch wit’a gun and your son, sippin’a forty
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| Nobody can hold me, I does it all by my lonely
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| I stomp your head when you awake, you be looking like Gumby
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| Aftermath and Shady bitch, you can read it and weep
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| You see my poster in the 'hood for the G of the Week
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| I’m a little bit off the chain, call me insane
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| But the fact remains that I’m a psycho
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| (heh, you know what? I am crazy, heh, it’hell, haha)
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| Better get it through your brain
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| When you say my name, never say it in vain cause I’m a psycho
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| (heh, nigga I’m 'bout to snap at any minute nigga evacuate)
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| They found Saddam, but they ain’t gonna find me
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| I’ll be under a tree in Buttfuck, Tennessee
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| And I don’t know too much about my daddy
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| Except he spit in my face and fucked me in my fanny
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| I ain’t a racist, I just hate whites
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| Fags and dykes, blacks and tranvestites
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| Thirteen years old and joined a fuckin’gang
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| Hair under my ass cheeks feeling the fuckin’pain
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| Am I insane? | 
| Who really knows
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| Cause any second my temper can fuckin’blow
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| I get colder than December
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| Black the fuck out, tomorrow won’t even remember
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| See Bizarre can show you what violence is all about
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| And this Dr. Dre beat done brought it the fuck out
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| Run in your house and put a gun in your mouth
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| And blow your brains the fuck out
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| I probably got a screw loose or two, or maybe three or four of 'em
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| Some fell out and hit the floor
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| All I know is ever since my fuckin’head hit the snowbank
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| I been a little Neanderthalish, no thanks to my man D’Angelo Bailey
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| But I just take it slow daily, my biggest dilemma’s
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| Tryin’to figure whether to use the flat head or the Phillips
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| Or just go to the Home Depot and pick the new power drill up Gives me two hours and six days and I’m still up I feel like I’m about to snap any minute
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| There’s a new Tower Records about to stop and get a fill-up
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| Pick the new Cypress Hill up And go find who did that shit to Xzibit
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| And go fill up a whole liquor bottle with piss
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| And shatter his fuckin lips wit’it
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| I’m a little bit off the chain, call me insane
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| But the fact remains that I’m a psycho
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| Better get it through your brain
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| When you say my name, never say it in vain cause I’m a psycho
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| Cornell Pitts a.k.a. Bugz
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| Rest in peace homie |