if this is pyscho rappin, then call me norman bates
hot shower action, busy stabbin all the fakes
who shake in my wake...
around my state.. we float like root beer till dawn then we sleep till 6 oclock,
lord whered it all go wrong,
too many hits off the bong, assasinated brain cells gone
still pimpin, these women love it when i gets to kicken
lines so fine sand blasted every rhyme lynchpin
shit call me the kingpin, holla at that green kid
holdin flamethrowers, smokin boulders tastin just like creamed squid
taste the crystals, blisters formed from holdin blowin pistols
where my mystical, lyrical, wicked individuals
usin appliance science visuals please respect the ritual
this just in, green be bustin.. eardrums and repercussions
crushin percussion drum bins
search for souls to swallow whole up
like whales eat the plankton whole up
quick,gets your hands up, hold up
stupid bitch wit the fanny pack
suicidal handicap, slapped wit my belt strap
loose gums tend to flap, lincoln logs will soon collapse
get your dogs, runteldat
you know, the ones you like to whistle at
doubt they ever come back
alright, new chapter, ima young clean bastard
ready to flash chapters, show your tits, ill autograph em
then sell them shits on ebay and collect a solid profit
while them titties collect dust im off gatherin knowledge
an emcee in training, though ill never sell 1 record
comin here, blades are sharpened often, leavin bodies for the stretchers