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insane clown posse - psychopathic (radio edit) lyrics

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[intro]
the ghettos of america are breading grounds for the criminal minded
as for years they’ve k!lled one another off, and america has enjoyed its creation
well now those ghetto+minded criminals have crossed the line into your neighborhood, and will soon give you a taste of the h+ll that they have lived for so long
so, pops, this time it’s your son who gets shot
deal with your own creation

[verse 1: violent j]
well, i’ve been to the stone house and it suckеd
payed my debts but i’m still a street hoodlum
dropped out of school ‘causе i couldn’t find my locker
stubbles on my chin, i got hair like chewbacca
might say something on the street
i don’t look for a job ’cause there’s no jobs looking for me
but still show respect
or i’ma swell your mouth up, redneck
tell the pigs i did it
i’ll pull your spine out your back, and beat you in the head with it
and keep your freak in place
or i’ma send her home with a foot print on her face
uh, i’m hatin’ chicks
sometimes i’ll do ’em like i do them hicks
‘less i’m in the sack
workin’ so hard, i almost broke my back
sellin’ out the house and you come up short
i might blow your funky self off my front porch
and the sight’ll make ya sick
i thought you knew, punk, i’m psychopathic
yeah, yeah
psychopathic
[interlude: jumpsteady]
yeah, thought you knew, punk
the icp made up of psychotic, demented, psychopathic mo’s
and we might put a hook to your throat

[verse 2: violent j]
growing up in ferndale set it off
old man with the [?] post taking that walk
that nut with the h+rn on 9 mile
[?] frontin’ that style
it was there that we started a rap group
so i dropped out and ma’s gave me the boot
met a few of the homies of the ghetto zone, now it’s
“southwest detroit is this demented one’s home”
so you might see me at a festival
cussin’, rude, and scratchin’ my t+st+cl+s
with a cold two+liter in hand
rapping to the freak at the french fry stand
take her to the patton park
and then i’ll make a s+xist remark
’cause they’re all eventually snitchin’
good for the bedroom, good in the kitchen
police don’t like me, it’s obvious
searchin’ my truck, you find a jack, you sorry punk
yet i’ll still get my tail kicked
that leaves me to shoot ’em in the face, ’cause i’m psychopathic
[interlude]
hey man why don’t you slide me some of that faygo over here?
aw, come on, man, let me just get a [?]
aw, man, you farted, didn’t you?
hey, joe, it’s a cop, man, chill
what man?
what?! your license and registration that’s what, you little heaten
hey, hey man, step off, you want some of this, you fat jelly+filled ho?
what’s up?
+gunshots+
come on, man
what’s up, you don’t want none?
+gunshots+
come on
yeah, come on

[verse 3: violent j]
yeah, i’ve always been a psycho
spittin’ on freaks and trying to dance like michael
out throwin’ rocks at stray dogs
buildin’ crackhouses out of lincoln logs
i cut class, sucker a faker
you was in school, i was home watching green acres
now i’m spitting ghetto rhymes in your face
you can barely hear the rap with all that bass
i’m running with a southwest street gang
try and tell you it’s a southwest street thang
’cause you know what icp’s all about
rest my 9 in your jaw and blow your throat out
find a girl whose daddy’s paid
and his sweet little ho becomes my sewer freak maid
but i throw the turkey out after the stuffing
slap her in the mouth, ’cause a freak ain’t nothin’
she gave me a key to the house
walk in and slap ma and deck pops in the mouth
serve you up something tragic
u.s. made ghettos got me psychopathic
yeah, yeah
yeah, psychopathic
yeah, psychopathic
yeah, psychopathic



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