C-Mob - Underground Psycho lyrics

[Verse 1: Twisted Insane] Yeah... I'm that individual that you don't wanna see up on a full moon Might turn into werewolf, sh** n***a it could be a nightmare if I go kookoo Brain splatter on the floor, any minute I could whittle, yea I did it if a muthaf**a wolfin I don't wanna here that "hold on, wait a minute, I just wanna talk" muthaf**a just take the a** whooping Sick n***a, still on block with gangsta sh** Stand outside with the heater on, go on a mission with a gangsta b**h Up in the club with a gang of b**hes, you can act like I ain't the sh** But don't be all up on me when I'm leaving with the homies And you runnin through the door like you're chasing dick (Brainsick) What's this...? like a n***a ain't big no more? Comin through the door, doing different shows, f**in hoes, n***as on the road, I ain't lit no more? Maybe cause a n***a don't spit slow-mo? And you other n***as is this so-so? Back up out my lane, 'fore I rip a n***a brain, get the f** up out my way, I ain't playing no more... (Normal Voice:) Hold up n***a, you trying to smoke up all the weed again n***a? (No..) Aye, come in here with that sh** n***a I-I'm-I swear you ain't gonna be doing this sh** to me again n***a. (A'ight) You know what I mean, when I'm in this motherfuka tryin' to do my sh** (A'ight, I got you) I just need a quick hit n***a before I go in Alright, I'm back Give me the weed I need to be before a n***a do my verse Smoking it by the ton, I need a pound to fill my f**in hearse Yea I play to win, I used to sit em when I play, watch the rays event Different muthaf**as comin' every day to spend I made so much money at the days-a end (Hehehe!) [Hook] (U-underground psycho) you don't really wanna tag on your toe Imma leave em with a 44 mag to your ho Leave you chopped up laying in a bag on the floor (U-underground psycho) f** around you'll be losing your bread Make a move, yo I go get the tools out the shed I'm sick f**, I don't have screws in my head (U-underground psycho) most of you rappers are whack with the bars Better come correct, don't act like you're hard Imma leave your body parts in the back of my yard (U-underground psycho) no love for a punk or a b**h Keep em in the basement or the trunk of my whip Then when I'm done, you'll get dumped in a ditch... [Verse 2: Twisted Insane] D-d-d-d-different n***a, call it what you want to, I'm a f**in nut Comin in wolfin disrespectful sh**, all these little n***as will f** you up S-some of the n***as even might cut you up, and put you in the freezer with the chicken guts Get ready for filleting I can open up his brain I can here you people saying "this n***a nuts"... When I get up ON IT and I really be up ON IT I be pushing like a COMET I be feeling super SONIC Kinda like I was BIONIC with the gin and f** a TONIC and I really go gorillas Cause I was feeling super ON IT To the muthaf**a wolfing till I make him taste the VOMIT Then I bring em to the dark and then I make you feel it HAUNTED And I feed em to the fish and make em meal up out the STOMACH When I'm skidding past a muthaf**a like I work at SONIC Wicked n***a, come from the era of the gangsta pimp Won't be caught dead in skinny jeans b**hes still walk around with a gangsta limp Half the new n***as is gangsta simps, better yet, not gangsta wimps You better for realah and you better be a k**a Before you run up on gorillas, blood, I ain't a chimp Psy-Psy-Psycho n***a, living up over the edge head full of steam I'm from Diego California where these n***as run up on ya, turn your face into bologna at the pull of green Yea I'mma shoot em when I'm murdering a witch n***a, when I catch 'em, wouldn't wanna be a b**h n***a I couldn't give a mad f** about a president that's still a b**h in person that'll run up on a rich n***a [Hook] (U-underground psycho) you don't really wanna tag on your toe Imma leave em with a 44 mag to your ho Leave you chopped up laying in a bag on the floor (U-underground psycho) f** around you'll be losing your bread Make a move, yo I go get the tools out the shed I'm sick f**, I don't have screws in my head (U-underground psycho) most of you rappers are whack with the bars Better come correct, don't act like you're hard Imma leave your body parts in the back of my yard (U-underground psycho) no love for a punk or a b**h Keep em in the basement or the trunk of my whip Then when I'm done, you'll get dumped in a ditch... [Verse 3: C-Mob] P-P-Pedal to the metal, man I never half a** sh** On another level, spittin' that acid Give them that package, then I act savage You are not a rapper you are just a whack actress Radio rappers are quicker to slaughter I Feel like I'm givin this dick to your daughter f**in em till it gets thicker that water Lyrically castrating rappers, so we probably on one You don't wanna see me get loco you are not OG Bobby Johnson They're telling me I'm sort of crazy I'd say the odds are more than maybe k**in off gold diggers can't afford a lady Imma leave em in the trash like aborted babies Sick of the trickery tricks'll be history quickly if you be f**in with me Triggers be flickering whistling wickedly sickening it'll be something to see Layin in the back of a seven-eleven send you up to heaven, ascended to pearly gates Scalping a mothaf**a like a Native American, instead of a tomahawk I'm using a 38 Sicker than syphilis, twisted like licorice Gifted with wickedness, b**hes and mistresses Lifted like Icarus, this is ridiculous Chris is meticulous with the word reminisce Dropping pipe bombs in your chimney on Christ-I-mas Like a sadomasochistic Saint Nicholas Twisted Insane and C-Mob are comin' through your neighborhood tearing sh** up we're so sick with this... [Hook] (U-underground psycho) do you really wanna tag on your toe Imma leave em with a 44 mag to your ho Leave you chopped up laying in a bag on the floor (U-underground psycho) f** around you'll be losing your brain Make a move, yo I go get the tools out the shed I'm sick f**, couple loose screws in my head (U-underground psycho) most of these rappers are wack with the bars Better come correct, don't act like you're hard Imma leave your body parts in the back of my yard (U-underground psycho) no love for a punk or a b**h Keep em in the basement or the trunk of my whip Then when I'm done, you'll get dumped in a ditch...