Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song American Psycho II (feat. B Real of Cypress Hill), artist - D12. Album song Welcome To The Pyrex, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 12.05.2008
Record label: Masari Music Entertainment
Song language: English
American Psycho II (feat. B Real of Cypress Hill) |
Yeah homie |
I thought we told we been fuckin’loco |
Cypress Hill, D12 bitch |
I’m a little bit off the chain, call me insane |
But the fact remains that I’m a psycho |
Better get it through your brain |
When you say my name, never say it in vain cause I’m a psycho |
We fuckin’crazy |
We’ll fuckin’snap in a minute bitch |
I’m a motherfuckin’omen, I bow down to no man |
Split a nigga open, killin’folks compulsive |
A soldier with a motive, scrotum big as boulders |
I hold 'em then unload on you, put it on a poster |
So everyone can notice who was focused on us Pokin’they nose in our business, hopin’that I don’t come smoke 'em |
No one knows my notions or emotions, I’m a vulture |
You niggaz close to croakin’any moment and I know when |
I could fuck the culture up, probably rap |
A maniac wit’anxiety attacks, I don’t wanna chat |
Speak when you spoken to And I don’t have to read a fuckin’magazine or quotable |
To notice what you ho’s will do We all soldiers |
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 |
And I’m prepared to blast you just as fast as Dre can say Hell yeah |
So watch what you say |
cause it can happen either today or the next minute |
I can draw the heater and spray and I’m dead serious |
You could be dead period, end of story |
I’m on your porch wit’a gun and your son, sippin’a forty |
Nobody can hold me, I does it all by my lonely |
I stomp your head when you awake, you be looking like Gumby |
Aftermath and Shady bitch, you can read it and weep |
You see my poster in the 'hood for the G of the Week |
I’m a little bit off the chain, call me insane |
But the fact remains that I’m a psycho |
(heh, you know what? I am crazy, heh, it’hell, haha) |
Better get it through your brain |
When you say my name, never say it in vain cause I’m a psycho |
(heh, nigga I’m 'bout to snap at any minute nigga evacuate) |
They found Saddam, but they ain’t gonna find me |
I’ll be under a tree in Buttfuck, Tennessee |
And I don’t know too much about my daddy |
Except he spit in my face and fucked me in my fanny |
I ain’t a racist, I just hate whites |
Fags and dykes, blacks and tranvestites |
Thirteen years old and joined a fuckin’gang |
Hair under my ass cheeks feeling the fuckin’pain |
Am I insane? |
Who really knows |
Cause any second my temper can fuckin’blow |
I get colder than December |
Black the fuck out, tomorrow won’t even remember |
See Bizarre can show you what violence is all about |
And this Dr. Dre beat done brought it the fuck out |
Run in your house and put a gun in your mouth |
And blow your brains the fuck out |
I probably got a screw loose or two, or maybe three or four of 'em |
Some fell out and hit the floor |
All I know is ever since my fuckin’head hit the snowbank |
I been a little Neanderthalish, no thanks to my man D’Angelo Bailey |
But I just take it slow daily, my biggest dilemma’s |
Tryin’to figure whether to use the flat head or the Phillips |
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 |
There’s a new Tower Records about to stop and get a fill-up |
Pick the new Cypress Hill up And go find who did that shit to Xzibit |
And go fill up a whole liquor bottle with piss |
And shatter his fuckin lips wit’it |
I’m a little bit off the chain, call me insane |
But the fact remains that I’m a psycho |
Better get it through your brain |
When you say my name, never say it in vain cause I’m a psycho |
Cornell Pitts a.k.a. Bugz |
Rest in peace homie |