Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Sick Thoughts , by - Omega SinRelease date: 15.05.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sick Thoughts |
| I wake up to whatever sick thought pops in my head |
| Brainsick! |
| I don’t give a shit about what the doctors have said |
| I may sleep til three in the afternoon |
| Then wake up still drunk |
| Talk shit to this lil' bitch, and then I ash out my blunt |
| Born brazy, My twisted thoughts are hangin' covered in blood |
| And some say I’m a lil' coocoo then its off with they nuts |
| Get the fuck outta my face I’m erasing my foes |
| I blow that bomb ass weed |
| And step to the door and go fold it, fold it, folded gold khakis |
| Everybody gon' riff there ain’t no love |
| I still eat government cheese |
| You hugging that ho like she gon' squeeze I’m off that one bitch please |
| I don’t give a fuck 'bout what she said blood its yo life so leave |
| I turn one negative to a positive for the MB clique |
| And nobody in front of me 'finna' be giving me no kinda slap |
| When it come to this shit |
| Nigga’s is busting your mental not telling you whether your better that’s |
| whether you grip |
| Brainsick! |
| I’m lift to the face and space, I’m in between |
| Hi-hi, I’m Twisted Insane and this has been my sweet sixteen |
| The virus is spread |
| Go hide under your bed |
| my game is on point just knife in your head |
| Life is a bitch watching the temp out |
| Hey yo I grew up looking at people who got bored of me |
| I started off not all there like God shorted me |
| Tweaking in dressing rooms fixing the billy-bob sort of freaks |
| Twenty seven having dementia before I’m forty three |
| When I was homeless I would dine and dash |
| Could not afford to eat |
| Loitering in front of my parents house hoping that mom notice me |
| Knew that I would make it one day I would rhyme boastfully |
| And now I’m on tour and ho’s treat me like I’m Jodeci |
| Damn! |
| This shit is brazy to me |
| Most of these nigga’s ain’t brain sick to me |
| I guess I’ve never come taking your freedom |
| And giving you a bunch of papers to read |
| Making you bleed every morning they taking your blood |
| But I’m in the room making some heat |
| Like if I don’t make it bitch what’d Edison be |
| Like Colin Kaepernick taking a knee |
| I was so used to people that spying on me |
| Now they say oh my god and they praying to me |
| All I’m doing is writing and making this bitch then record it |
| And they gonna pay me to see |
| And this could be bitches want papers from me |
| But that’s brazy 'cause I got some babies to feed |
| So I just pick up the .380 and squeeze |
| Is a maybe to kill my baby to please |
| Who knew disposing a body would be this hard |
| Ill bury em with the rest of the cadavers in my backyard |
| It only takes one drop of blood to get my dick rock hard |
| I need to drink me a couple of quarts of the blood or ill break out in czars. |
| Im like an open sore. |
| Fall in deep depression cause the worlds recession. |
| Im spreadin disease like an airborne infection |
| Youd think that I come from another dimension |
| All of my life i was gettin arrested and fuckin my teacher at school in |
| detention. |
| not gonna mention thrown in corrections from holdin a weapon like |
| charleton heston. |
| Shit about to get domestic bury you somewhere in Texas I’ll |
| beat you repeatedly and then I will secretly scratch your name off of my |
| hitlist |
| Never will i leave a witness rather hit em with the biscuit |
| If anyone comes to my bar bq i want them to know that i turned you to brisket |
| Im from the ghetto next door to the devil where we do not tolerate bitch shit. |
| Dig a hole with the shovel then clean up the puddle then walk away like i |
| ain’t did shit |
| Sickness i can’t stop killin and dealin I think im addicted murder |
| Wicked when it comes to my chillins the cap get to peelin |
| Im plannin to hurt em |