Bosko - Mind of a Sick n***a lyrics

Artist: Spice 1 Album: 1990-Sick Song: Mind of a Sick n***a (Theyre all gonna laugh at you) (Theyre all gonna laugh at you) (Hahahahahaha) (Theyre all gonna laugh at you) Enter the mind of a sick n***a With bloody uzi clips Decapitated heads in baskets Closed caskets. Murda on wax n***a, thats what its all about Thats what you bought the muthaf**in tape for Murda on wax Redrum. On wax n***a, I said, redrum, on wax Gotta get my prozac fore I go back And murda these muthaf**as Jumpin up out yo bushes in front a yo house with a tech nine Leavin in yo spine a flurry a bullets Its that k**a S-P-I-C-E A lot a these jealous muthaf**as they wanna murda me But they can't f** with that giggedy-giggedy-gangsta The n***a thats leavin they muthaf**in body parts in dumpstas Budda-bye-bye-bye feel them blood clot rastas The n***as who be out there slippin catch some buckshots to them head Pullin up four deep in an old school caddy Fully auto-maddy Empty the clip, n***as like paddy In the alley, n***as domes they cap Pistol whippin muthaf**as, got some blood on my strap (Chorus) What goes on in the mind of a sick n***a? Them bloody bodies, face down in the dirty river What goes on in the mind of a sick n***a? Redrum, professinal gravedigga What goes on in the mind of a sick n***a? Them bloody bodies, face down in them dirty river What goes on in the mind of a sick n***a? 187, professinal gravedigga Im bailin up out the cut and n***as they dont know what the f** happened Im laughin and blastin, rippin a**es in half an Street sweepin these n***as up under the rug Plug they a**, makin they hooptie blow up when they crash Zonin out that hash Face down, back open, hopin they ain't no snitches scopin Witnesses witness they own smokin See it ain't no joke and nothing funny Bustin caps in yo a** like Yosemite Sam and Bugs Bunny They all see my comin and then they fled Im shootin these n***as off in the backa they head Blowin off they legs Talkin sh** while they dyin f**in off they high an Hollow points keepin these n***as cold bodies fryin I ain't no stranger to this k**in sh** You shoulda thought before you f**ed with this n***a you was dealin with You see I mobs through the ghetto smokin hash blunts Stalkin game in the streets I grew up in And when the sh** get funky I just get on up And blow your head off with a muthaf**in mac 10, b**h Chorus Youll be outta this muthaf**a like Ron Goldman, chopped the f** up Ain't no n***a livin alive that survived And had me caught up in some bullsh** Now who you tryin to f** up in the hustle This 20 gaugell ripple your a** up like a can a Ruffles Im tryin to bubble like Johnson and Johnson With one in the chamber up an I load this strap with a 45 Thompson And we gon see if all that sh** is true Comin up out the bay, guaranteed to be 187 proof You see my bustin with one hand up on my nutsac Departin domes yellin out whos the muthaf**in mac Its that red infa, n***a with a hot temper I got your funeral date set up for next September You gon be deader than livin presidents Cuz in a couple a secs your soul gon be checkin up outta its residence Bodies stiff like Christmas ornaments Because the n***as that a f** with me bein mo funk than Parliment Chorus You see I mobs through the ghetto smokin hash blunts Stalkin game in the streets I grew up in And when the sh** get funky I just get on up And blow your head off with a muthaf**in mac 10, b**h Chorus (n***a, what you thinkin bout?)