As long as the VS bling, look at that light show In the hood they say Fifty man your sneaker look white yo Just can't believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho
steal and runnin from the coppers Who hold a, boulder, turn the gun controller Started from a punk now to be a high roller Youngest, reckless, crazy,
psycho killer, hooligan geurilla I dream to riot, oh you should try it R. E. Perot, get gold card soul My joy of life is on a roll And we'll all be the
up with this dumb shit? I'm packin' a nine most all of the time now back up bitch I'm locked down all the time because I might go psycho, for drinkin'
count, me buckin em down, stay down Murder me style, me put em in the ground now way down Steady flip when I bang, bang, man Flippin I roll with me gun
makes no sound A snuff film on a jumbotron For all the world to see A cocktail napkin epitaph Some psycho babel telegram Message written in the sand The tide rolls
in with a pen and a pencil, come out with a bag of crack Show up with a bunch of goons, you ain't never matchin' that Roll so fuckin' deep, we know where
on a fat ass jay Prude! You can't hang Flash back on the skills when I used to bang On the corner I'll warn ya Gonna roll on ya Fool Hit ya with a golden
his draws Ticklin' him go to his grave, skip him and visit his dog (Hook) You're on fire Thats how ya know you're on a roll Cause when you hot it's
up, chips on my shoulder, Knew about that caller when I was in a stroller, Became a holder, choppin' 'em boulders, gettin' older, Wantin' to roll, but duckin' 'em rollers
shake-up flow Put me off in a cipher? Potna, you can't fuck wit the sniper Your flow's premature, clean your dirt diaper Mic heister, psycho, alpha-schizo
rhymes forbidden, but still hittin' The U-N-H-O-L-Y and I ain't bullshittin' Pray all night and day, my soul might be saved I make dead bodies roll over
pentagram dead on your forehead And as soon as ya say a lyric your dead X marks the spot where your body falls Then I'll grab your soul and roll, 'cause
your bags piss off and dont call me back i hate indierock no more romantics i want sex and blood almost orgasmic it*s time for rock n roll this is not
dope and guns" Check for warrants, that son of a bitch on the run, I know Three of his niggas got life, he use to roll with And told 'em I bodied an upcoming
10 bells of dro What I payed for the flour Don't talk about my lambo talk about my Rarri Talk about my Phantom, talk about my Harley Brick Squad Biker boy, angel named Charlie Dudes goin psycho
known as Evil cuts You wanna know what's happenin - "WHAT?" The beat become my soul, I'm goin out of control Look in my face as my eyeballs roll back
love but you cant love a yoyo She will run and fuck then come right back then i greet her at the door with a smack Cause im psycho swingin till you hit