D12 — American Psycho

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Текст D12 — American Psycho

I’m the devil, if ever there was such a thing
The results of much too many drugs what you’re seeing
I’m a mindfuck, completely dis-(gu-uh-uh)-sting
I’m (what) a human mutt fuck a being
I’m a dog, fuck lambs, I’m silencing ’em all
I’m involved in murders forensic science couldn’t solve
Giant set of balls too big to buy a set of drawers
Might as well unzip my fly and let ’em fall to the floor
Each thought’s completely warped
I’m like a walking, talking Ouija board
Speaking in tongues, I’ve never spoke this speech before
Hhem-delle-la, ennich-me-noughh-mi-niche-mick-norrf
Have you ever experienced spirits in lyrics when you hear ’em
‘Til you scared to stare into any mirrors when you near ’em?
Well if so, get ready for some shit yo
«Is this some kind of sick joke?» Shit no, motherfucking schizo
So disturbed, he just goes so berserk, he tiptoes
Fist first with scissors to slit throats of just hoes
Just goes to shizzow you dizzon’t fizzuck with
So-someone this disturbed, sa-sippin on si-zzurp
So lock your doors, drop to the floors

Get your shotguns drawn, here comes another Clockwork Orange
Look at Bizarre, you really think he’s right in his mind?
What the fuck you think’s goin’ through it when he’s writin’ his rhyme?
You ’bout to journey into the mind of a psychopath killer
Blood spiller, mentality much iller
Than you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams
You’ll feel his pain in his silent screams
You ’bout to journey into the mind of a psychopath killer
Blood spiller, mentality much iller
Than you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams
You’ll feel his pain in his violent screams
It’s Friday night, I’m at a rave again
Picking up transvestites on my Harley-Davidson (hey hop on)
My girlfriend’s a crackhead whore
She’ll come to your door, suck your dick on the floor
And take your bottles to the store (nigga, I’m takin these)
Have you ever seen a bitch get beat because she won’t cheat
Run the street and suck another nigga’s meat?
My son’s sixteen years old with nowhere to stay (dad it’s me)
I told him he wasn’t mine, slammed the door in his face
And I ain’t got no food, my job I’ve been cheated
My girlfriend had a miscarriage (I’m sorry) I had to eat it (ohh)
My dick is burning, it ain’t cause of disease
Because I’m jacking off with gasoline mixed with antifreeze (AHH!)
I’m living in Waco, Texas, me and my girl

Fuck David Koresh, I’m starting my own world
It’s called Bizarre Cemetery, it’s scary
Eating a virgin’s cherry; they’re all gonna laugh at you, Carrie!
Journey into the mind of a psychopath killer
Blood spiller, mentality much iller
Than you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams
You’ll feel his pain in his silent screams
You ’bout to journey into the mind of a psychopath killer
Blood spiller, mentality much iller
Than you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams
You’ll feel his pain in his violent screams
I was born feet first, smoke 40’s and drink weed
The Lord rehearsed my birth, I’m the worst breed
Of nigga you ever set sight on, my right arm’s
Got more power than 5 of Ivan Drago’s pythons so
«Journey into the mind of a psychopath killer»
Light yo’ ass like a liquid nitro-gas spiller
Psycho slash Michael Myers, Michael Jack’s «Thriller»
Rifle slash knife faggot that’s your «Cop Killer»
As a yung’un, I was beat where I was living (aight)
Cross-dressed just to get thrown in the women’s prison
I guess I was just stressed to be a hoodlum

Being pressed caused the stress that caused the Ritalin
Pressed stressed and Ritalin caused the cop’s feelings
To be hurt after they seen what I did to those children
I’m vulgaric, you Bo Derek, I throw you face flat off the terrace
So you can have somethin’ to stare at
Journey into the mind of a psychopath killer
Blood spiller, mentality much iller
Than you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams
You’ll feel his pain in his silent screams
You ’bout to journey into the mind of a psychopath killer
Blood spiller, mentality much iller
Than you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams
You’ll feel his pain in his silent screams