(Yeah... Feelin' classy today. Well, aight. Let's go.)
I'm not evil I'm just psycho
I'm so afraid that everybody looks at my lyrics to spot a typo
(Yeah)
Money rate growing in my pocket is the minimal
Running from the mobs
People treat me like a criminal
The pinnacle of raw entertainment, my day spent
Throwing rocks at main events
I unravel the havoc
And take it easy in the hammock
Al Quaeda is the testimony
Don't you ever rectify me
The killable syllables
In the pinnacle of innocence
I'm a creepy little rapper
Coming out the factory, capture me
I will be the toughest rapper, actually
Watch me as I drag my ass to the top gradually
(Ugh)
I never sleep
I stay away and prey on the weak
Then I devour the freaks
And then I pray for the weak
I transmit gamma rays
And break off the manta ray's tail
And raise hell on a Saturday
And stab the people
Yeah
Another rapper washin' the dishes
Don't look at me and my sick compositions
(Oh Sick!)
I am done with this feelin'
All you suckers this evenin'
Are goin' down
(Whoo)