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  • Текст песни RBL Posse - Sorta Like A Psycho



    (Black C)
    Sorta like a psycho, a nigga just might go
    Spray the whole town cuz a nigga is a schizo
    Little freaky deetch try to say a nigga mean
    But I'm sprayin punk ass with my Uzi machine
    (What you gonna do that shit fo?), lay your punk ass on the floor
    So you wanna be captain save a hoe?
    Rat-a-tat rat-a-rat rat-a-tat-tat
    (Is that a cap gun?), no it's my mothafuckin mac
    Or my deuce deuce, mothafuckin call it what you want to
    (I call my shit a gun), well I call my shit the make-room
    Mothafucka Mothafucka mothafucka pretty soon
    Since you're on my fuckin penis
    why don't you drop to your fuckin knees
    Bow wow wow yipee yo yipee yipee yeah
    Bark like a dog and just make my mothafuckin day, nigga
    Ya fuckin wit the wrong one, psycho ass lunatic
    nigga that is all wrong
    B-L-A-C-K-C, my mothafuckin name
    I put up the deuce deuce so pull out my 12 gauge
    Boom boom boom I watch the nigga head fall off
    Then I hit the cuts with my mothafuckin sawed off
    Duck while the body rot, nigga still on the plot
    But next time, I use my mothafuckin Glock

    (chorus)
    To the old school nigga where I'm known the most
    Hunter's Point, give it up smooth

    Knick knack paddy wack, give a bitch a crack sack
    While I'm up in the cuts, blowin off niggas backs
    But it ain't no thang, my bitch in the dope game
    And I gotta ride, kill, and maintain my mothafuckin biz wax
    A nigga's fin to get tax, a nigga goin mad, they call me mad max
    A mothafuckin rebel (a crazy ass basket)
    Punk mothafucka just call me Charles Manson
    Tear it off bro, (man wit the funk flow, give it up smooth)
    Is my mothafuckin moto
    But I see the blue and white suits wanna get me
    And I'm not goin out like my boy Tony T
    Bring em on bring em on bring em, I'm fin to hit the cuts and I'm
    feelin shake and bake em
    Tippy tippy toe to my mothafuckin back door
    I'm fin to straight chill wit a fat sack of indo
    Bitch gimme some mothafuckin zig zags ho
    Now I got my zig zags, 40 ounce and watchin mad
    Shoes all muddy, and pants filled wit green grass
    But I'm not trippin, a nigga gotta kill time
    Went to the closet, and pulled out my 9
    Stepped went crept to the mothafuckin window
    The gun in the right hand, the left one indo
    But the course is clear I'm fin to take a chill pill
    Fuck that shit gimme a break down before I get ill

    Chorus

    I'm startin off my last verse, five niggas in a herse
    Fuckin wit me should've checked his fuckin head first
    I pulled out the U to the Z to the I
    Punk mothafuckas weren't prepared for the homicide
    Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat same damn thing
    Got four in the head and one in the nigga layin
    And if they didn't know me right now
    Then they'll never ever ever ever know me
    (Mr.Cee)
    So you should've be listenin from the get go
    Cuz the villian on the under is about to flow
    I'm a nigga that moves in silence
    And I get a head rush in the midst of violence
    A lot of people don't think highly
    The reason cuz I'm a product of a violent society
    And that's the why the shit goes
    Why go to a wholesale when I can jack you for your gold
    And it don't matter if you're ten pounds bigger
    You'll just fall harder when I pull this trigger
    Yeah there's a lesson to be learned
    But no one took notes, so niggas get burned

    Chorus