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skitzo - psychopath killer remix lyrics

[intro]
d-mn son, where’d you find this?

[verse 1: skitzo]
see the key to a kilo is to be low key bro
don’t skeet on these streets bro
time and place for that
so be loki bro
and when you’re ready to go skeet, go thor on your wh0r- like she don’t want it no more
drop the hammer, cram her — f-ck that — body slam her with no manners
like bruce banner, but even madder
(ha)
another one and done, but the real fun with a stupid naked c-nt comes from making her run
and she weighs a ton
and i sit back when i’m done
cl!ck clack in my backpack son
cuz my wife for life is that heater
keep her when i need her
date her at the movie theater
like a james holmes repeater
a james holmes repeater
a james holmes repeater
f-ck batman
i wanna be like that man
got a call from my therapist, went there, stood on his chair and just
p-ssed in the air
and said a prayer like
dear lord, f-ck a shrink
i drink before i think, and it all makes sense!
otherwise i’m thinkin’ without blinkin’ when i’m on the fence
flipping the f-cking lincoln at my own expense
cuz abe’s head is like mine
against comment sense (cents)
so gimme a penny or some henny, and i’ll figure out the rest
amen

[verse 2: royce da 5’9″]
i’m a psychopath, i’m never keepin’ it plain
lyrical murder is somethin’ i’ve been about
ever since i was a little kid, doodlin’ in cl-ss
drew a picture of my teacher, bullet in his head, ruler in his -ss
with a toilet in front of him, throwin’ up, p-ssed off
prolly symbolic of this thought, sick taught
until my inner enemy interrupts
i’m havin’ nightmares of leavin’ behind my dreams
with anything less than a full bank
it’s like i’m general hong, and i’m standin’ in front of a gun
i’m puttin’ myself in the way of a bullet to pull rank
the hood is over my eyes but the wool ain’t
yeah, got the mentality of bein’ with a wizard
every award show, we don’t even get considered
how do you sell somethin’ that’s so lyrical
to a kid who wouldn’t know what was hittin’ if it hit him?
now i wanna talk about these n-ggas from detroit
before me and shady, who was thinkin’ ’bout detroit?
we put the world onto it so watch how you say “f-ck me”
you just might jinx yourself, whoops, your girl gon’ do it
cause i was in that 911 in chicago, 911 at the same time
i had already been grindin’ since ’97, that’s longevity
and if you think you’re lyrically better, you better be a k!ller

[hook: yelawolf]
(i’m a psychopath, i’m a k!ller) oh yeah
you ain’t ever seen a motherf-cker get realer
(a psychopath, i’m a k!ller)
pull an automatic on anybody sporadic i choose
(a psychopath, i’m a k!ller)
cause ain’t n0body iller, no one, n0body for realer
(a psychopath, i’m a k!ller)

[verse 3: kxng crooked]
this elite drinker is the ringleader
i’m a deep thinker, i’m a street preacher
with a street sweeper full of heat seekers
in your jeep speakers i’mma keep ringers
i don’t need heaters, i got the meat cleaver
welcome to the slaughterhouse
n-ggas try to tell me i spell too much
capital s to the laugh to the t-e-r
ho, u-s-e, now go to h-ll you f-cks, word
making work disappear quick as magic
abracadabra, the trafficker blacker than africa
can you imagine a n-gga flipping bread for the blood?
money like dracula has him a spatula, ask me a question
am i the best with the flexing?
f-ck yes with the goon talk
i just moonwalk all over the beat then i’m lightin’ up the street
crooked going michael jackson on thriller
(i’m a psychopath, i’m a k!ller)

[bridge]
feelin’ it in the air, breathe it in the night
staring at the full moon
did you ever think you would come to find?
maybe in my dreams

[verse 4: eminem]
the thought of retiring
is makin’ me want to set your daughter on fire with a soldering iron and
what up ma, i’m applyin’ for the rim job, are you hirin’?
i’m hopin’ to fill up your openin’
oh but i know i gotta meet a lot of requirements
first i gotta accept you’re in a lobby in ireland
and you’ve probably already been with all the slaughter and i am in
no mood to be playin’ second fiddle, slob on this violin
with no strings attached
i’m just the product of a hostile environment
but bein’ brought up so wrought up inspired
but i don’t know why, it’s still like i’m caught up inside a whirlpool
not an appliance, but applyin’ this science, i psychotically rhyme
and it’s like stars are aligned all in alliance
heart of a lion, b-lls of goliath
obscene talk intertwined like a beanstalk and a vine
but i keep walkin’ the line between the wrong and the right
but everything i write seems wrong and it’s like
i’m ecstatic at all the static that i can still cause
in the fabric of our modern society
now catholics are panicking cause i snapped back to my old antics and shenanigans
dammit, the pope’s mad again
probably shouldn’t have ran up in the vatican with that mannequin
singin’ “bagpipes from baghdad” again
in my dad’s drag, draggin’ a f-ggot in a glaad bag
won’t be the last time i make a dramatic entrance like that again
you thought i was lyin’ when i said i think that i’m crossin’ the line again
i’ve lost my mind, caution oh god i think i’ve just thought of another f-cking line
forgive me father, for i have sinned
but hip hop has left me brainwashed with a violent streak
defiant, now the odds of me tryin’ to f-ckin’ be quiet
probably gotta be ’bout as high as the jolly green giant
after he’s fallen in pollen next to a k!ller beehive colony tryin’ to sneak by it
while his feet stomp, follow me while i revive rap
i’ma start up a rioting, try to stop it or silence it
you’re not gonna, might as well just hit the block in your joggin’ attire in
boston, across the marathon finish line than to
put your thoughts against mine
cause the -rs-nal i have’ll scar you for life, worse than dzhokhar
tsarnaev with bombs, pliers and barbed wire
your bars are like barney fife with a f-cking swiss army knife
a saberless darth vader with arthritis in a bar fight
with the dark knight on a dark night with his arms tied up
i’m dahmer-like when i’m on the mic, i’m not gonna lie
i perform like i’m gonna die at the end of a song so it’s hard for the rhyme to end
like f-ck ’em all i’m just ridin’
like i’m locked up inside of a shot up bonnie and clyde car
uncle ronnie was driving, ’bout to burst in through the side door
of arkham asylum and park in the dining room

- skitzo lyrics

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