TOKYO'S REVENGE - IN THE MIDDLE lyrics

[Intro] [?] Now that I know you do it so well This is the end What nonsense, darling (Evil on the beat, no cap) [?] And I'll do it again Ah, oh, no, now you must rest Well, no, don't forget all the things the lovely things we plan to do today (Yuh) (Tok, good morning) Yeah, yeah [Chorus] All these buckles on my jeans (Huh) sort of remind me of my straitjacket (Yeah) Looking like a lick (Uh), I'm fresh to death (Yeah), I'm in my grave laughin' (Ayy) Mr. Voorhees with the blade (Yeah), how it get tragic (Yeah) Norman Bates (Yuh, yuh), psycho diamonds all up in the face flashin' (Ayy) Hol' on, wait (Huh), let me do this dance with the Devil (Yеah) Anyways (Yeah), gotta keep my hands on the metal (Yеah, owooooo) Got a Glock on both hips, b*tch, I'm Malcolm in the Middle (Uh, yeah) If a ni**a try to touch me, I'ma kill 'em (Yeah) All these buckles on my jeans (Huh) sort of remind me of my straitjacket (Yeah) Looking like a lick (Uh), I'm fresh to death (Yeah), I'm in my grave laughin' (Ayy) Mr. Voorhees with the blade (Yeah), how it get tragic (Yeah) Norman Bates (Yuh, yuh), psycho diamonds all up in the face flashin' (Ayy) Hol' on, wait (Huh), let me do this dance with the Devil Anyways (Yeah), gotta keep my hands on the metal (Yeah, owooooo) Got a Glock on both hips, b*tch, I'm Malcolm in the Middle (Uh, yeah) If a ni**a try to touch me, I'ma kill 'em, uh [Verse 1] And that's on God I’ll send a ni**a straight to God (Yeah, yeah) I got three pistols, b*tch, that’s a menage (Yeah) And that’s on young man Hold up, ni**a, I mean Young M.A Cause I’m dykin’ with this dick up in my draws Fit it in ya’ jaw Two things, ni**as all talk And they’ll always bandwagon 'cause they’re soft (Huh, yeah) And if they get a chance to make you look bad, dickridin’, then they’ll do it 'Cause they know you got more talent in a cough (Uh, uh, huh) Yuh, up, up, and away b*tch, who the fu*k? If you don’t get up out my face (Um) I’ve been sittin' thinkin' about maybe pickin' a different route ni**as chicken, let's pick em out, with that I'm okay Uh, 'kay I know some ni**as that I’d love to name Some ni**as that were riding for the fame (Yeah) Where are they today? (Yeah) Could’ve swore I hung them by they skeletons Somewhere in my motherfu*kin' place (Yeah, yeah, 'cause) [Chorus] All these buckles on my jeans sort of remind me of my straitjacket Lookin’ like a lick, I’m fresh to death, I’m in my grave laughin' Mr. Voorhees with the blade, how it get tragic Norman Bates, psycho diamonds all up in the face flashin' Hol' on, wait, let me do this dance with the Devil Anyways, gotta keep my hands on the metal (Owooooo) Got a Glock on both hips, b*tch, I'm Malcolm in the Middle If a ni**a try to touch me, I’ma kill him, uh (Yeah) All these buckles on my jeans (Huh) sort of remind me of my straitjacket (Yeah) Looking like a lick (Uh), I'm fresh to death (Yeah), I'm in my grave laughin' (Ayy) Mr. Voorhees with the blade (Yeah), how it get tragic (Yeah) Norman Bates (Yuh, yuh), psycho diamonds all up in the face flashin' (Ayy) Hol' on, wait (Huh), let me do this dance with the Devil (Yeah) Anyways (Yeah), gotta keep my hands on the metal (Yeah, owooooo) Got a Glock on both hips, b*tch, I'm Malcolm in the Middle (Uh, yeah) If a ni**a try to touch me, I'ma kill 'em, uh (Yeah) [Verse 2] b*tch, I’m gassed up, got a motormouth I keep on talkin' my sh*t 'till them poles is out (Yeah) ****, could catch a dick to an open mouth On my dick talkin' 'bout sh*t he don’t know about (Yuh, yuh) Same thing for **** (Aw, I gotta stop name droppin' ni**as and giving y’all clout) Actually, fu*k that These ni**as hoes and I love that (Yuh) I’d be the bigger person, but I’m just not above that (Yuh) I’m just so sick of the cap (Uh) These ni**as fragile like motherfu*kin' glass in a cabinet (Yeah) And you ni**as punk? b*tch, I’m laughin' (Uh) Especially ****, 'cause I had love for you, it’s tragic You could’ve been like, "What happened?" (Uh) Instead the hoe jumped out your body, you talked out your ass (Yeah) Same thing for ****, I’m mad (Uh) Then you gon' talk bout’ that sh*t and present it as fact? Yuh, which is crazy 'Cause you know I got the receipts to prove that sh*t 'gazi (Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah) Ain't it amazing how you knew that I can’t show it online, so you played me (Yeah, yeah, yeah) You were lazy (Huh, yeah), you ain’t even think twice about it 'fore makin' a statement (Yeah) But that's okay, 'cause I'm patient I'm not gon' argue with the internet 'bout some fake sh*t (Yeah) [Chorus] All these buckles on my jeans (Huh) sort of remind me of my straitjacket (Yeah) Looking like a lick (Uh), I'm fresh to death (Yeah), I'm in my grave laughin' (Ayy) Mr. Voorhees with the blade (Yeah), how it get tragic (Yeah) Norman Bates (Yuh, yuh), psycho diamonds all up in the face flashin' (Ayy) Hol' on, wait (Huh), let me do this dance with the Devil (Yeah) Anyways (Yeah), gotta keep my hands on the metal (Yeah, owooooo) Got a Glock on both hips, b*tch, I'm Malcolm in the Middle (Uh, yeah) All these buckles on my jeans sort of remind me of my straitjacket Lookin’ like a lick, I’m fresh to death, I’m in my grave laughin' Mr. Voorhees with the blade, how it get tragic Norman Bates, psycho diamonds all up in the face flashin' Hol' on, wait, let me do this dance with the Devil Anyways, gotta keep my hands on the metal (Owooooo) Got a Glock on both hips, b*tch, I'm Malcolm in the Middle If a ni**a try to touch me, I’ma kill him, uh [Outro] There's no problem, if you got a gun, shoot 'em in the– That's a sure way to kill 'em