Black C - Sorta Like a Psycho lyrics

Artist: RBL Posse Album: A Lesson to Be Learned Song: Sorta Like a Psycho (Black C) Sorta like a psycho, a n***a just might go Spray the whole town cuz a n***a is a Schizo Little freaky deaks try to say a n***a mean But I spray they punk a** with my Uzi machine (What you gon' do that sh** fo'?), lay your punk a** on the flo' Since you wanna be captain save a ho -> Rat-a-tat rat-a-rat rat-a-tat-tat (Is that a cap gun?) no it was my mothaf**in mac Or my deuce deuce, mothaf**a' call it what you want to (I call my sh** a gun), well I call my sh** the make-room Motherf**a', motherf**a', motherf**a', please! Since you're in(on) my f**in' penis Won't you drop to your f**in' knees Bow wow wow, yipee yo, yippee yippe yay Bark like a dog and just make my mothaf**in' day n***a, ya' f**in' with the wrong one, psycho a** lunatic n***a that is on one B-L-A-C-K-C, my mothaf**in name I put up the deuce deuce an' pull out my 12 gauge Boom, boom, boom, I watch the n***a head fall off Then I hit the guts with my mothaf**in' sawed off Duck while the body rot, n***a still on the plot But next time, I use my mothaf**in Glock (chorus) To the whole school gettin' wild throwin' 'em ups -scratching- Hunter's Point, give it up smooth! Knick knack paddy wack, give a b**h a crack sack While I'm up in the cuts, blowin' off n***as back's But it ain't no thang, my b**h in the dope game And I gotta ride, k**, and maintain my mothaf**in' biz wax A n***a's fin'a get tax, a n***a goin' mad, -BANG BANG- They call me Mad Max A mothaf**in' rebel (a crazy a** ba*tard) Punk mothaf**a' just call me Charles Manson Tear it off bro, (man what the f** fo'? "Give it up smooth") Is my mothaf**in' mando 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 finna hit the cuts And I'm finna Shake N' Bake 'em Tippy tippy toe to my mothaf**in' back do' I'm finna (or feelin) straight chill wit' a fat sack of Indo -b**h gimme some mothaf**in' zig-zags ho- Now I got my zig zags, 40 ounce, and watchin Mad Shoes all muddy, and pants stain' wit green gra** But I'm not trippin, a n***a gotta k** time Went to the closet, and pulled out my 9 Stepped with pep to the mothaf**in window The gun in the right hand, the left one indo But the coast is clear, I'm fin'a take a chill pill f** that sh**, gimme a break down before I get ill Chorus I'm startin off my last verse, five n***as in a Hearse f**in' wit' me, you should'a seen they f**in' head burst Pulled out the U to the Z to the I Punk mothaf**as weren't prepared for the homicide Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat same damn thang Got four in the head, and one in tha' dingaling And if they didn't know me by now Then they'll never, ever, ever, EVER know me (Mr.Cee) So you should've be listenin' from the get go Cuz a villain on the under is about to flow I'm a n***a that moves in silence And I get a head rush, in the midst of violence A lot of people don't think high 'a me The reason: cuz I'm a product of a violent society And that's the way the sh** goes! Why go to a wholesale when I can jack you for your dough? 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 to notice, so n***as gettin' burned Chorus