Letra de Underground Psycho

[Verse 1: Twisted Insane]
Yeah...
I'm that individual that you don't wanna see up on a full moon
Might turn into werewolf, shit nigga it can be a nightmare if I go kookoo
Brain splatter on the floor, any minute I get with it, yeah I did it if a muthafucka wolfin
I don't wanna here that "hold on, wait a minute, I just wanna talk" muthafucka just take the ass whooping
Sick nigga, still on block with gangsta shit
Stand outside with the heater on
Go on a mission with a gangsta bitch
Up in the club with a gang of bitches
You can act like I ain't the shit
But don't be all up on me when I'm leaving with the homies
And you runnin' through the door like you're chasing dick (Brainsick)
What's this? Like a nigga ain't big no more?
Comin' through the door, doing different shows, fuckin' hoes, niggas on the road, I ain't lit no more?
Maybe 'cause a nigga don't spit slow-mo?
And you other niggas is this so-so?
Back up out my lane 'fore I rip a nigga brain
Get the fuck up out my way, I ain't playing no more

[Talking]
Hold up nigga, you trying to smoke up all the weed again nigga? (No..)
Aye, come in here with that shit nigga
I'm-I'm-I swear you ain't finna be doing this shit to me again nigga. (A'ight)
You know what I mean, when I'm in this motherfuka tryin' to do my shit
(I got you man) I just need a quick hit nigga before I go in
I'm back

[Continued Verse]
Give me the weed I need to be before a nigga do my verse
Smoking it by the ton, I need a pound to fill my fuckin' hearse
Yeah, I play to win, I used to sit 'em when I play, watch the rays event
Different muthafuckas comin' every day to spend
I made so much money at the days-a end (Hehehe!)

[Hook: C-Mob]
Un-underground psycho
You don't really wanna tag on your toe
I'mma leave 'em with a .44 mag to your ho
Leave you chopped up laying in a bag on the floor
Un-underground psycho
Fuck around you'll be losing your brain
Make a move when I go and get the tools out the shed
I'm sick fuck, I don't have screws in my head
Under-underground psycho
Most of you rappers are whack with the bars
Better come correct, don't act like you're hard
I'mma leave your body parts in the back of my yard
U-u-underground psycho
No love for a punk or a bitch
Keep 'em in the basement or the trunk of my whip
Then when I'm done you'll get dumped in a ditch

[Verse 2: Twisted Insane]
D-d-d-d-different nigga, call it what you want to, I'm a fuckin' nut
Comin' in wolfin' disrespectful shit
All these little niggas will fuck you up
S-some of the niggas even might cut you up
And put you in the freezer with the chicken guts
Get ready for filleting I can open up his brain
I can here you people saying "this nigga nuts"
When I get up on it and I really be up on it
I be pushing like a comet, I be feeling supersonic
Kinda like I was bionic with the gin and fuckin' tonic and I really go gorillas
'Cause I was feeling super on it
To the muthafucka wolfing 'till I make him taste the vomit
Then I bring him to the dark and then I make you feel it haunted
And I feed him to the fish and make 'em meal up out the stomach
When I'm skidding past a muthafucka like I work at Sonic
Wicked nigga, come from the era of the gangsta pimp
Won't be caught dead in skinny jeans
Bitches still walk around with a gangsta limp
Half the new niggas is gangsta simps
Better yet not, gangsta wimps
You better for reala and you better be a killa
'Fore you run up on gorillas, blood, I ain't a chimp
Psy-Psy-Psycho nigga, living up on the edge, head full of steam
I'm from Diego, California where these niggas run up on ya
Turn your face into bologna at the pull of green
Yeah, I'mma shoot 'em when I'm murdering a witch nigga
When I catch 'em, wouldn't wanna be a bitch nigga
I couldn't give a mad fuck about a president that's still a bitch in person that'll run up on a rich nigga

[Hook: C-Mob]
Un-underground psycho
You don't really wanna tag on your toe
I'mma leave 'em with a .44 mag to your ho
Leave you chopped up laying in a bag on the floor
Un-underground psycho
Fuck around you'll be losing your brain
Make a move when I go and get the tools out the shed
I'm sick fuck, I don't have screws in my head
Under-underground psycho
Most of you rappers are whack with the bars
Better come correct, don't act like you're hard
I'mma leave your body parts in the back of my yard
U-u-underground psycho
No love for a punk or a bitch
Keep 'em in the basement or the trunk of my whip
Then when I'm done you'll get dumped in a ditch

[Verse 3: C-Mob]
P-P-Pedal to the metal, man I never half ass shit
On another level, spittin' that acid
Give 'em that package, then I act savage
You are not a rapper you are just a whack actress
Radio rappers are quicker to slaughter
Feel like I'm givin' this dick to your daughter
Fuckin' 'em 'till it gets thicker than water
Lyrically castrating rappers, so we probably on one
You don't wanna see me get loco, you are not OG Bobby Johnson
They're telling me I'm sort of crazy
I'd say the odds are more than maybe
Killin' off gold diggers, can't afford a lady
I'mma leave 'em in the trash like aborted babies
Sick of the trickery tricks'll be history quickly if you be fuckin' with me
Triggers be flickering whistling wickedly sickening it'll be something to see
Layin' in the back of a seven-eleven, send you up to heaven, ascended to pearly gates
Scalping a mothafucka like a Native American, instead of a tomahawk I'm using a .38
Sicker than syphilis, twisted like licorice
Gifted with wickedness, bitches and mistresses
Lifted like Icarus, this is ridiculous
Chris is meticulous with the word, rippin' this
Dropping pipe bombs in your chimney on Christ-I-mas
Like a sadomasochistic Saint Nicholas
Twisted Insane and C-Mob are comin' through your neighborhood tearing shit up we're so sick with this...

[Hook: C-Mob]
Un-underground psycho
You don't really wanna tag on your toe
I'mma leave 'em with a .44 mag to your ho
Leave you chopped up laying in a bag on the floor
Un-underground psycho
Fuck around you'll be losing your brain
Make a move when I go and get the tools out the shed
I'm sick fuck, I don't have screws in my head
Under-underground psycho
Most of you rappers are whack with the bars
Better come correct, don't act like you're hard
I'mma leave your body parts in the back of my yard
U-u-underground psycho
No love for a punk or a bitch
Keep 'em in the basement or the trunk of my whip
Then when I'm done you'll get dumped in a ditch