D.S.Y.D.S. (Don't See You Doin' Shxt) [feat. Madchild & Ca$his] feat. Madchild,Ca$his

歌詞

[Bishop talking] Let me see what I need, ahh, I need my chainsaw, ahh, my AK-47, my rocket launchers, some grenades...and my flame thrower. Yeah [Bishop Lamont] Ohhh Oh shit, it's time to ill MC's it ain't safe, e'rybody gettin' killed Your mammy (boom), your daddy (boom, boom) Gram Gram (boom) and your pappy (boom) And them little ugly ass, your ashy ass gets black they are so nappy No self hatred, I'm no racist, I hate everybody Kill your cat, kill your dog and the parakeet bitch Shoot your fish tank up like "Fuck them goldfish" M-m-m-madness and mayhem, P.M. to the A.M Stomp like the collector got a collection Of decomposing possessions Talent scout I'm out to find new specimens May I make a small suggestion? Rappers, stop lyin' through the speakers 'Cause I see directly through you like Jeepers Creepers Creepy, got a dumb flow Threatening me? I shit on all you, I needs lots of T.P. for my bunghole I'm not high, I'm not high, check my eyes I swear I'm just lyrically retarded and not all really there I'm a beast bitch, I'll bully money from a grizzly bear As if a bear had money and went to school But in your dreams you can't win, I'm a fuckin' nightmare Tommy Ray Glatman, dream assassin, Dreamscape You don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout? Google it, I'll wait [Bishop Lamont] Everybody in this bitch gon' get gunned down Boom, boom, boom, you don't wanna hear that sound I'm goin' insane, hearin' voices in my brain They keep on tellin' me to do some really fucked up things This can't be real, I'm really feelin' fuckin' ill They keep on sayin' "Everybody gettin' killed" They keep on tellin' me "Everybody gettin' killed" I hear 'em whisperin' "Everybody gettin' killed" Over and over "Everybody gettin' killed" Yo, yo I'm a white Beast boy like Adam Horovitz Stab you in the orifice, I'm darker than a horror flick (Boom) I put a bullet in your skull to make a peep hole Then lean your head against a tube so I can watch the Creep Show I'm a freak though Graphic rap-a-holic Splatter all your blood around the room like I was Jackson Pollock I'm all alone, I'll crack your collarbone and haul it home And spread your guts around the wall and write a diabolic poem Llike Michael Meyers with a knife cause I'm a psycho killer Listening to Michael Jackson Thriller, I'm a hyper villain I'll smash your fuckin' skull and then say "nighty night" Tackle rappers wearing tighty whites like it was Friday Night Lights Pop a vitamin then squat like Spiderman Then take a fuckin' shit on all you rappers for entitlement Sneak into your studio then stab you till your speaker's red Then take your Jordan 3's cause I'm a klepto and a sneaker head Gimmie your shoes Yeah, these are gonna fit [Bishop Lamont] Everybody in this bitch gon' get gunned down Boom, boom, boom, you don't wanna hear that sound I'm goin' insane, hearin' voices in my brain They keep on tellin' me to do some really fucked up things This can't be real, I'm really feelin' fuckin' ill They keep on sayin' "Everybody gettin' killed" They keep on tellin' me "Everybody gettin' killed" I hear 'em whisperin' "Everybody gettin' killed" Over and over "Everybody gettin' killed" [JD Era] Go look up 'psychopath' then find me in the dictionary Grinnin' ear to ear, in prison gear, I hope you bitches ready I fuck a nun missionary, get it? Missionary Got a lot of friends but momma thinks they're all imaginary And they keep tellin' me to "kill, kill, kill" Murder, murder, roll a blunt and pop a pill, pill, pill And you won't, but I will For a crisp dollar bill Shove your head so far up your ass you be talkin' shit at every meal I'm me I'm meat with cheese and some Molly powder in private Discussionals blowin' up on which rappers outta be silent I get so fly the stewardess can't close her eyelids My Taliban homie thinks that I should be a pilot I don't know, yes I'm the bomb Tick, tick, hide your child I'm happy killing you at work We call that service with a smile Just took some 'shrooms I guess I had the bad pile Burn a cross in front of your yard and blame that shit on Mad Child