[Intro] I see you looking at me Looking at me, so I ask
[Hook:] Am I a psycho? Am I a psycho? Yeah I’m a psycho, I guess I’m a psycho
[Verse 1 — Tech:] You’re crazy, I like you, but you’re crazy, my tours paid me So I used that dough to allure ladies to manure bathe me Never that; my minds for sure shady Pure Hades, Rev X Steady couldn’t endure to save me Why did I let this stripper burn me on my arm with a cigarette In the same spot 10 times in a row when I feel that burn I palm the clitoris I’ma get her wet, sorry to get carried away, I feel stupid cause I ain’t did her yet Maybe she never let a fine nigga stare at her breasts, and get vexed, so N9NE bit her neck Open! I try to contain it but that bang thang’s soakin’ Alter ego say why you let them gang bang folk in Strange Lane hopin’ I can maintain coping But ain’t nobody talking when the insane mane spoken I like fire on my skin, blood on my draws From up on her walls, I’m suffering, I’m stuck in her claws Stuffed in her jaws, huffin’ and puffin’ hollerin' I'm a dog, afterwards I like really hot scalding water on my balls
[Hook]
[Verse 2 — Hopsin:] Mom? Dad? I’m no longer the boy you’re used to seeing I’ve changed a lot, plus I’ve grown to hate every human being My mood swings have now turned my dreams into gruesome scenes Now I’m doing things I don’t normally do When illusions seem to be the only pleasures I can gain Heck, if I was sane I woulda put down the mic and said fuck it I’ll never rise to fame But with the wicked wreckage I contain, I could probably jeopardize your name No lovey-dovey let’s ignite the flame if you’re lucky you survive the pain Sorry that ain’t very merry to say, why is this game so scary to play? Well let me think, cause every day my balls are getting too hairy to shave Pause a minute, I’m stressin’ the game if I go to hell, then heaven’s to blame I don’t mean to come off crazy but you motherfuckers seem to think that I’m hella deranged When I was seven years old, I fell on my head and I severed my brain If you think I’m lying then ask my mama nigga she’ll go tell you the same Should I be ashamed? No, I’m living my life so ghetto fabulous Before you get bent outta shape, my nigga let me ask you this
[Hook]
[Verse 3 — B.o.B:] I stab you with this mic and rap this verse I’m rappin’ to you Matter fact I’m rapping through you, never say my motherfucking name Unless you absolutely have to I am not no fucking jacket With no matching shoes and you are not no fashion guru Can’t even see you niggas, y’all wish I was rappin’ to you Matter of fact act like I’m rappin’ to you if that gives you passion To use this as an excuse to jump at a conclusion That I’m attacking you dudes, it's just like old fashion voodoo Y’all ain’t even the shit, no ya’ll ain’t even the doodoo I got more flavor on the tissue paper under my two boots So I’m slapping you foolish with wooden paddles you stupid Babysitting little bastards like little afternoon children You can call me psychotic but it’s more like schizophrenic And I can speak can anyone tell me just where my medicine is Guess I gotta show these minors just where my avenue is Man I swear I’m all about my brain like graduate students I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings I see your tears, come here, give me your face, let me clear it But I wonder how it would look if I were to peel it back with a skillet Then I would feel it crack when I hit it, then I’mma split it back when you heal it Dammit Bobby boy, what in the hell, what in the heaven, what in the Earth Where is your mom? What are you cursed? Where are you from? Where was your birth? Where were you first? Why weren’t you in church? Why is there dirt all on your shirt? Man I think you’re going berserk..