KutMasta Kurt - Mental Case lyrics

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KutMasta Kurt - Mental Case lyrics

[Dr. Dooom] Yo, f** Octagon! Don't ASK me about that fu*kIN sh** fu*kIN ask me about that f**in sh** again!! I ain't doin that type of sh** (I ain't doin that sh**) You motherf**ers think I'm crazy right? (Yeah you crazy) I know, but I am.. I have to show n***as, word G, I have to blow n***as Tech 9's, Carbines, pointin in your f**in faces Thirty-eight Magnum butcher knife man, watch me stab em Q his kid left there, with ambulances, by the wheelchair Dangerous Action, I'm the movie, I'm the main attraction f** up your front lawn with M&M's, Jiffy Popcorn Piss in your mailbox, throw sh**ty Pampers every two blocks Cut up your great dane, with charcoal out, leavin great flame You f**in ba*tard, don't f** with me, you gettin blasted n***as get f**ed up, you black n***as are actin white Your Rolex gone, my project's on your airplane flights First time you check out, baggage claim will throw your neck out Cut off your bodyguards, fast start with razor scars Come grab the submachines, Joe step to seminars n***as with diamonds, armed crackheads, clock y'all rhymin Take your girl's necklace, stare at the cops, lookin reckless Ass on the corner, think you safe workin at Warner Brothers? Polygram building heard some shots, they want me to chill then Security ran, Russell Simmons saw me in a black van I ran the tight intersection, and caught a big erection Spinnin on 3rd, Lexington, through the f**in red I'm in Manhattan, naked wigs, on my f**in head Streets full of traffic, drive on sidewalks, that's my habits Chorus: Dr. Dooom and {unknown guest help} Mental case, mental case {Man, he be likin Campbell's soup, Apple Jacks Double XL diapers} Mental case, mental case {Chocolate milk, p**no films Flintstone tablets} Mental case, mental case {Roscoe waffles and make them extra soft Oh-KAY?} +1 {Roscoe waffles.. and make them extra soft DUDE!} +2 {Make sure he gets a girl ohkay?} +3 [Dr. Dooom] Your style is b**h kid, you f**ed up, sound like a woman I'm not impressed when you sport mics and touch your breast You transvest with small flows, you can't, proper digest You open mic stands, you catch one, with s**m in your hand I leave you thinkin in your hotels, with p**y stinkin Ma**engil thrills flow through New York, to Hollywood hills Your male flow, I'm wipin a**cracks like Mop-N-Glo MC's get inserts, thrash style selectin bad words Move with your silk suits, I stomp your mics with combat boots Make up your rap that's feeble, small you think it's major I pull your rectum out, erase your girl, off my pager International feedback, I make you twist your knee back I got your crew on camcorders, tryin to rhyme in Teaback's Garter belts on DJ's, sportin tryin to spin on felts I see that rugged kid comin through, gimme that screwface He's wearin girdles, your back-up man, sportin pink lace ..Hey man you better watch your back up in here man They rapin little boys! Chorus [Dr. Dooom] I stop your intro, move your mic at your birthday party Your group set up, takin turns, Y'ALL SHUT THE fu*k UP Walk, grab your nuts, leave the Kangol's and scratch your bu*ts Stage shows get messed up, you're hardcore, zippin your dress up Move on your projects, new sh**, that's how I do sh** Word up G, y'all n***as sound PUSS, lick my pee-pee veteran nasty Don't even try to f**in ask me, fax you my phone number I beat you down with steel cans and wood lumber Open your face up, dress you with makeup Have your b**h-made, makin Kool-Aid with your a** out In a gla** house, where convicts wear big dicks Strong n***as, got your a**holes in the mix You need protection for that tight infection Chorus [Dr. Dooom] You boys comin in hard, I'm the warden You go out soft